Sins of the Father
by Sheherazade's Fable
Summary: First Class, Sequel to All We Are. As the Brotherhood expands Xavier is eventually forced to do the same with the X-Men membership. However, some students were never meant to come to the Institute, let alone fight with the X-Men. No OC's, canon pairings.
1. Chapter 1

"Hey Mrs. X!"

Moira turned in time to see Alex jogging cheerfully up the path to the school. His little brother, Scott, struggled to keep up with him. She had to feel sorry for Scott; his brother was much faster than him. The heavy backpack he was wearing and the suitcase he was dragging couldn't be helpful either. Not to mention that his vision was obscured by his sunglasses.

Alex set his luggage down before giving her a one armed hug that nearly strangled her. Her stomach turned at the sudden movement.

"So you've acknowledged my last name's changed," she said, "And it's only taken a year."

"You haven't been married to the Professor for a year," Alex said, crinkling his nose.

She shook her head. She was sure she knew when her own anniversary was. Because of their busy schedules Moira and Charles had opted for a summer wedding. It had been a small affair at a church a few towns away; only family and intimate friends had been invited.

"One year last month," she said, "You were there you know."

"Yeah?"

"You all were."

It was true. Hank had labored to make an image inducer that he could disguise himself with to the event. The gesture had been kind since Hank had just started to feel confident about his image. However, her parents had attended. Charles had tactfully told her her parents couldn't know that they were all mutants. It made her uncomfortable to have to hide something so integral to her life from her parents, but she understood the need for secrecy in that particular matter.

In some ways she'd been relieved that she hadn't had to explain to her parents about the crowd she ran with. It had been difficult enough to live with their uncertainty about her marrying a man who was confined to a wheelchair. Things would have been much more complicated if they'd also known that said man was also a telepath who owned a school for mutants.

Her mother had tentatively managed to voice her doubts. They both knew it would be nearly impossible for her to have children. Her mother knew how much Moira wanted them. That had hit home since Moira had secretly cried over it once before getting it out of her system. Her mother had been worried that she was sacrificing having children for the man she wanted to marry.

However, Moira knew that she'd rather have Charles and a school of other people's children than any other man and a horde of biological children. So, in the end she'd simply said;

"He's worth it mom. He really is."

Her father had been silent but she knew he was worried for various reasons. However, he'd remained silent until he'd actually met Charles. During Charles' visit her father had been friendly but watching. At first she thought that he was trying to get her fiancé's measure. Later she realized that she'd been wrong; he'd been watching how** she** interacted with her fiancé. He'd been trying to see if he was really 'worth it' to her. At the end of the night he'd given an approving nod and never said a word about it.

"Fine, whatever," said Alex.

She smiled at him.

"It's good to see you again Alex. Have a nice summer?" she asked.

"Fantastic," Alex said.

He looked over his shoulder.

"Hurry up!" he yelled.

"Shut up!"

She shook her head. Panting Scott managed to reach the two of them. He was nearly collapsing from exhaustion.

"You shouldn't tease him like that."

"Ah, he likes it," Alex said, "Can't believe you guys thought that you were going to have a problem with my boy scout."

Alex chuckled and ruffled Scott's hair. Moira had to admit that when she'd first heard about the addition of a second Summers she'd been worried. Yet, Alex's nickname for his brother rang true. Scott was a model student, thoughtful and respectful in class. She had to wonder if his upbringing had been stricter than his older brother's. After all, it must be a sign that a parenting method needed editing if the first child ended up in jail.

"So," Alex said, "Sean in yet?"

"He promised he'd take me flying," Scott piped up.

"He's in," she said.

"Great," said Alex, "Is everything still okay with Maeve?"

Moira let out an exasperated sigh. During the previous January Maeve had broken up with Sean after a fight. Sean had been devastated. Although they had gotten back together he had spent the rest of that month, February, and a good chunk of March in a deep depression. It had been a rather gloomy time for them all and they'd had to watch what they said.

"They're fine," Moira said.

"Then it's even better," said Alex, looking at his brother, "Hey boy scout, this is Sean after Maeve left."

Alex put on a pouting face and buried his face in his hands with loud, overdramatized fake sobs. Scott giggled.

"That's not that funny," Moira said.

"It's hilarious," he said, "Three months after a girl? Yeah, never going to catch me doing anything like that."

"We'll see," said Moira, "Now go and unpack your things. We're having the first day of school scavenger hunt in two hours. Winning team gets to pick their time slot for the first week in the game room."

"Alright, alright," Alex said, "Come on, let's get moving."

He picked up his brother's extra suitcase. She shook her head after them and entered the entryway. Several kids were holding maps and frowning, turning them this way and that. On her way to the staircase Moira ended up giving directions several times, assuring the kids that they would get the hang of it after a few weeks.

It was a little quieter towards the dormitories, but not much. Many of the kids were getting reacquainted but there were new arrivals that caused tension. On the way up she had to break up a fight between a few of the students over rooming arrangements. With another flight of stairs she went past the offices of the administration where teachers were trying to organize things, and with another flight she finally made it to the faculty living quarters.

Feeling tired she walked up to the door with the brass plate that read 'Xavier'. She took out her key and put it in the lock. Just when she was about to turn it she coughed. One of the teachers used a cinnamon perfume. She never used very much of it, but lately the smell had seemed unbearable to Moira. She couldn't even stand to be in the same room as her.

Coughing again she opened the door. Since their marriage Charles and her had shared the same living dormitory. Much of the furnishings remained the same, but there were different knick knacks like a framed picture from their wedding on the table beside their bed. The image of the two of them smiled at her when she came in, the light from the hallway making the glass shine.

Something else caught her eye; her husband lying on their bed. His hands were folded on his stomach and his eyes closed. He looked tired and she assumed he was asleep until he said;

"Lock the door behind you. Bolt it, batten down the hatches, brace it for invasion."

She smiled and locked the door behind her. Then she walked forward and laid down on the bed next to him. Without opening his eyes he moved his arm so that it was wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. She placed a hand on his chest and put her head on his shoulder.

"Long day?" she asked.

"Exceedingly so."

"Well, it's not over yet," Moira reminded him.

"Yes it is," he groaned, "The door is locked, the day is over. Time to sleep. Wake me up on June third."

Moira laughed; the school year ended June third.

"Don't make me go down there and explain why Professor X isn't coming down," she said, "We'll have a riot on our hands."

"Then don't," he said, opening one eye and giving her a sly grin, "stay here and hibernate with me sweetheart. I'm sure it will be quite fun."

He took the hand on his chest and moved it up. He kissed her fingertips and she felt shivers run down her back.

"Tempting," she said, trying to concentrate while he kissed her palm, "But I don't think we're going to be able to get away with that."

"You're right; there's no food in here except alcohol in the mini bar."

"That's not food," she said, pulling her hand away.

"Oh, it is. It is," he assured her, undaunted and caressing the side of her face with his cool hand, "But if I can't get ten months of complete peace, can I have eight months?"

"No."

"Five."

"You made the term last this long, not me," she pointed out, "I'm just the housekeeper."

"That makes me sound perfectly dreadful, having my wife as the housekeeper," he moaned, "You know perfectly well you're a teacher's aide. Come now; I'll be reasonable. One month."

"No Charles."

"You drive a hard bargain sweetheart," said Charles, twisting a lock of her hair around his finger, "How about one hour?"

Moira leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. Then she let her lips trail down to his, giving him a deep, lingering kiss.

"Of course."

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_First off __I'd like to thank everyone who's come back to read the sequel. Thanks for the support! The second thing is that t__here's one__ thing I'd like to say about the X-Men movie timeline to avoid confusion in the future; it doesn't make sense. I might be nitpicking but I've actually been trying to puzzle it out for some time. I guess Marvel's ageless characters are playing merry hell with chrono-dynamics. My way of thinking about it ran as such; Charles Xavier is 28 in 1962, which is when the Cuban Missile Crisis happened. The first X-Men movie came out in 2000. If it's 2000 in the movie that means he now 66 which doesn't make a lot of sense for the character. Patrick Stewart was 60 when the film was made, even if he's one of those actor's whose age doesn't really show, so I can almost see it. However, he saw a young Storm in Cerebro. That puts her in her forties in the first movie at least, and Beast in his fifties by The Last Stand. I don't think so._

_And then there's takingX-Men Wolverine: Origins into account. Generously that took place in the 80's, but it looks more like the 70's. Professor X mentions in the first X-Men movie that Wolverine's been wandering around for 15 years without his memories. That makes it in the 1990's. And Stryker? Factoring in First Class this makes him around 100 by the time X2 rolled around. This is why, for the sake of continuity, and my sanity, I'm supposing that the first X-Men movie actually happened sometime in the late 80's. No actual dates are going to be mentioned, but if you're curious. Wow; this was definitely longer than I thought it was going to be. Definitely my longest author's note. Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:** Just another author's note, hopefully shorter than the last one. In the comic series Moira MacTaggert was a geneticist who owned a facility called Muir Island. In the movie she's a CIA survellaince agent who needs to call in a geneticist to make her case. Not exactly the same. That's why I'm adding an aunt with a similar name because I needed another geneticist for the story. Enjoy. _

_Also, you could go and google the two mutants mentioned in this chapter. I encourage you not to. Saves some surprises._

* * *

><p>Dr. Moira Rose MacTaggert hated her name. She hated it with the kind of passion that started wars and blood feuds that would last for centuries. If her hate were some sort of cosmic being it could consume planets and empty them of all life forms, always hungry and always seeking new things to destroy.<p>

Her closer friends and brother had asked her why exactly that was. For one thing, it alliterated. Yet, if that was all it was then she was sure that she wouldn't have minded. However, Moira had a soft sound while MacTaggert had a harsh, cutting noise in both the 'c' and the 't'. Every time someone said the name it grated on her ears.

It was also, quite simply, because everyone in her family had it. There was some kind of tradition going back generations where the oldest girl in the family was always named Moira. One of their ancestors, Moira MacTaggert of Scotland, had saved the life of several royal children. The act had been courageous and was even in several history books. So now everyone had to be named after her.

She had had the misfortune to be the only daughter born to their family, hence the eldest one, so the name had passed on to her. As her parents weren't oracles to see that it wouldn't suit her she didn't blame them. It was just rotten luck. To her Moira implied a mysterious, tall, suave, pretty girl. She on the other hand, was short and dumpy. On good days she thought of herself as handsome but on most days she acknowledged that she was plain. The addition of coke-bottle glasses when she was ten hadn't helped either.

This was why, ever since she was a little girl, she had always gone by her middle name. Rose MacTaggert was a little easier to bear; anyone could be a Rose even if the other name showed up on official documents. The best thing that had come out of her marriage to a politician some years ago was that she got a new last name. That went away when she found out he was cheating on her and got a divorce, but still.

That was also why, when her older brother had a daughter, that poor girl had been named Moira MacTaggert as well. Holding the small baby in her arms Rose had tried to convey all her sympathy to her. While her niece had grown into the expectations that Rose thought the name implied it was still a lot to live up to. Things weren't so bad for her niece now though. She had gotten married to one Charles Xavier. That made it Moira Xavier, a much better name in her opinion.

She had felt some pride in that. More or less Rose had been the matchmaker. As a geneticist she had been the first one Moira called when trying to find one. At the time Rose had been working on a thesis paper, but she had decided to pick up the phone anyway. Normally she just let it ring until it stopped.

Moira had always been sensible so when she told tales of women with diamond skin and demonic teleporters Rose certainly believed that she'd seen something. However, that was not her area of expertise at the time. So she'd directed her to Charles Xavier. While he wasn't even a professor yet she'd read some of his papers. His theories were interesting, something she'd kept on file in her mind.

"I know he seems an unorthodox pick," Moira had said, "But I think he's just the man you're looking for."

Apparently he was judging by their marriage over a year later. Her shock that he had somehow become dependent on a wheelchair had been great, but it had been squashed when she saw them together. She had been very smug when at their wedding. Rose might not be able to handle her own love life but by God she could help other people's.

Rose was fond of saying that she was married to her work and, unlike some people, she believed it. After all, her work would never ignore her, cheat on her, or call her names. Her work was her second and rather better husband. At the age of fifty-seven she had no real desire to take a third either.

Her work had even given her a home. With a rather nice settlement from her divorce and the money from a few patents she had bought a small island off the coast of Scotland. The locals called it Muir Island and she saw no reason to rename it. The existing castle had been remodeled for her and she'd happily tinkered away on idea after idea in privacy. It was a comfortable existence and one that made her infinitely happy.

So why was she in Boston Massachusetts when all she wanted to do was stay on her cozy island? Why had she not visited her beloved niece, who was only a few states over and would have been happy to see her? To put it quite simply her husband was calling. And right now she had to do some smooth talking for him.

"I understand your concerns Ms. Dane," Rose said, her voice congenial, "Which is why I'm here to personally reassure you that this will be conducted under the strictest rules of patient confidentiality."

Across from her Susanna Dane hesitated. She looked almost like a teenager in that moment, although Rose knew that the woman was in her thirties. Susanna simply looked young when she was worried, and she was very worried at the moment. She stared down at the form but made no move for the pen. Inwardly Rose felt her stomach contract in frustration.

"Is there anything about the wording of this that you want me to change?" she asked, trying not to sound pressuring or desperate, "Because I can change it. It's there to provide both of you with protection so I want it to be exactly to your liking. I can come back for it later and we can talk again then."

Susanna bit her lip.

"Dr. MacTaggert," she said, "First I want to know what would happen if I sign. Please."

This was encouraging.

"To start with I'd like to meet your daughter," said Rose, "I would like to draw her blood and ask her some questions. I would also like to see how fast her metabolism runs and possibly take an MRI and monitor brain functions while she uses her power. I would also ask her to demonstrate her abilities. This last task will be recorded, although only for research purposes. You'll be there for this whole process of course."

She paused, going over her mental checklist. Yes, that seemed to be everything.

"This may last a few months, but I'm flexible," she said, "I've rented a facility here in Boston. Your daughter wouldn't be the only subject in this after all. And, like I said before, you'd be there for the whole thing."

"Thank you, but I'd prefer not to have the recording," Susanna said.

She swallowed. Susanna must have seen her inward frustration because she said;

"I'm not trying to be difficult. But I know what can happen to people like my daughter if things aren't handled correctly."

"My intentions-" started Rose.

"-sound perfectly noble," said Susanna, "You want to help mutants, let the world see them as something other than a dangerous presence. You want to show that it's completely normal and that it's not threatening; it's natural. I believe that that's your true purpose, but there are many people out there who wouldn't use this like that."

Susanna's expression was defiant. She was obviously going to fight tooth and nail for her daughter at even the faintest hint of a threat.

"And you want to help your daughter," Rose said, trying to strike at the root but still be honest, "But I'm not going to pretend to be a miracle worker. I may not even be able to show her how to control her abilities. That might not come until much later."

"I know that," said Susanna, "I read the fine print and I did some asking around. I know about your own daughter. Is she a mutant as well?"

Rose squirmed.

"She's my adopted daughter," she said, "And yes, she is."

Yes, her husband work had given her a child in the form of Rahne Sinclair. Like Lorna she'd heard about her through the friend of a friend and had wanted to use her as a subject. When she'd seen the girl bruises had riddled her face and arms. Reverend Craig, the owner of the orphanage, had told her that her mutation caused her skin to split and that she sometimes had fits. Rose saw how her mutation could cause stress on the skin so she'd accepted it at the time. Her ignorance made her feel stupid when she found out the truth.

Rahne had warmed up to Rose slowly but surely. Unlike most people Rose had started off by trying to make friends with the girl instead of the Reverend, whom she found disagreeable even at the start. It was probably her strange personality that had allowed her to do so. It made her happy that she could get along with children.

And, with a little kindness, Rahne had told her everything. She'd told her about the beatings and how she had been called a demon ever since she could remember. Above all she was kept away from the other children at the orphanage. That meant that she had very little human contact.

Rose was tempted to commit murder. The hell kind of a man could call himself a Christian doing that? However, she'd thought about the situation. She couldn't believe that Rahne had managed to tell her about it, she looked like she expected to be punished at any second. Her words were a cry for help, one that Rose would answer. She'd gone home and had worked tirelessly to make sure that Rahne wouldn't have to stay with that monster for another hour.

The decision to adopt Rahne was not one that was taken lightly. She was nearly sixty. There would be no father for the girl; just her crotchety self. At the same time she didn't see any other solution. If she was put into another orphanage then she would most likely find others unsympathetic to her condition. Rose was going to make sure that that didn't happen.

When Rahne had heard the eleven year old girl had all but run into Rose's arms. In the four months since then she'd been petitioning to change her name to MacTaggert. It felt strange to her.

"So now I have even more assurances you wouldn't do anything to hurt my daughter," said Susanna, "I just don't want this information misused."

"I agree with you," Rose said, choosing her words carefully, "That's the last thing that I want to happen. And if you insist I won't record any of this. I also said to you over the phone you r daughter would only be referred to as Subject Number One in the report. My daughter would be Subject Number two. There would be no way for her to be traced back from it."

"I don't think too many people would credit your research if you weren't going to record names," said Susanna, "They would probably accuse you of making it up, faking your data and creating subjects."

Rose smiled. Susanna was clever, but Rose had already thought of this one.

"They might do, they might do," she said, "But I have a spotless record in the field of science. All of my theories have been proven; all of my inventions have worked. That should be enough to convince at least some people that I'm deadly serious when I talk about people who can fly or make plants grow or something. It will be a grain of doubt in their minds."

Her smile became a little more satisfied.

"I know that my theories may never be fully accepted in my lifetime," she continued, "I am, after all, nearly sixty. If it takes twenty years for these to be common place then I might already be gone. But I want my work to be a building block, a stepping stone. People may need it as reference material someday."

She leaned back. Susanna was looking at her with respect and consideration. That was definitely a good start.

"And I'm not the first one to pose these theories," she said, "There was a geneticist named Charles Xavier who first brought these up in England."

"Then why isn't he doing this experiment?" asked Susanna.

The question wasn't hostile, only curious.

"He started up a school in New York, got married," she said, not bothering to mention that he was now her nephew-in-law, "That can take a lot of time. I'm simply seeing if I can confirm or deny his theories. Then again, from what I've seen, I don't think that his theories can bedenied."

Again Susanna looked down at the piece of paper. Her face was worried but she swallowed. With a determined motion she reached for the pen. Rose's heart soared even as she had to fight to keep her face calm and collected. With a few strokes of a pen Susanna had signed. Rose wanted to snatch the precious contract to her and instead moved it over so that she too could sign.

"Thank you Ms. Dane," she said, collecting the paper and getting up, "I look forward to meeting Lorna in three weeks' time."


	3. Chapter 3

Charles looked over his shoulder at his first three students one last time as he left the room. They were organizing some sort of card game competition. His pride in the three of them waswell-warranted. They had matured a great deal since he had discovered them trashing a CIA facility.

Now Hank, Sean, and Alex were among the class leaders and had been elected to the student body. They took a strong hand in organizing trips. This year though Sean and Alex turned eighteen. He knew Hank had always intended to focus on his research and stay at the Institute, but the other two had yet to disclose their plans for their post-high school life.

It seemed a long time ago that he had first welcomed them into the doors of his school and even longer since he had first met them. So much had happened since then. As students they had been practically teachers. As people they had become the 'X-men' and, to his everlasting pain, fought Erik on several occasions since Moira's kidnapping. Mostly they were preventing assassination attempts or cutting lines of communication. Others were rescuing scientists that had been taken for some reason or another.

There were failures, but more often they succeeded. Nowadays they seemed to be outnumbered by the growing ranks of the Brotherhood. He often wondered if perhaps it wasn't time to boost their ranks, especially considering that they were almost adults. His own aversion to having his students fight a war stopped him on several occasions.

He sighed and shook his head. He couldn't worry about that quite yet. There were so many other things going on. Chaos and confusion were always an integral part of the first week at the institute. Charles had recognized this during the school's second year. He had hoped that it would soon end as the number of old students outweighed the new. Now that it was onto its third he started to wonder if the first week would ever run smoothly.

For one thing there was the urge for the children to 'show off'. Rarely had they been encouraged to use their powers at home. Parents were either abusive or secretive when it came to their children. Very few had encouraged their children to develop their abilities. Many of his students had felt ashamed to be able to do what they did.

Now there were scores of other children just like them. The feeling he'd had when he first met Raven had spread; they were not alone. What's more was that the others were asking them what they could do. Since most students had always felt, deep down, that their powers were 'cool', they had leaped at the chance to do so. More often than not this led to accidents.

There were also the children who were bitterly homesick. There was a certain feeling of responsibility towards them and teachers tried to calm them down. Others had been the victims of abuse and neglect. They shied away from contact with others and tended not to join in in class discussions or any games.

At times like those he was glad he had Moira with him. As a woman who had undergone both abuse and torture she was good at understanding how those children felt. Sometimes she introduced them to other children with similar experiences such as Doug. Slowly but surely they would come out of her shells.

No one could deny that she did a good job. She knew how to relate to them, but it pained him to know how she had come by that knowledge. The burns on her arms would never fully heal. Charles was always aware how much of the pain she had been subjected to had been because of her continued presence with them. However, he at least knew she was happy with her new life.

After the first week some of this quieted down. Children became more comfortable with their surroundings and less eager to show how much they could destroy or manipulate. However, he was looking forward to the weekend. The older students took the others on camping expeditions and excursions to the town. It gave them a sense of responsibility. Other teachers accompanied the younger students, and those that stayed behind were very often quiet and trying to get their schoolwork together or finished.

Because of his mobility problems Charles didn't participate in any of the outings. He went to town on occasion but could never go on any of the longer trips. Moira did a few of them, but mostly she stayed behind with him. She always said that she had to help grade papers and tutor, although he knew her real reasons were that he wouldn't feel left behind. He appreciated this more than he could say.

Thus far he hadn't seen her very much that day. Fridays were always busy and this one incredibly so. After dinner the mail had come in and she had sorted letters to the students she had gone upstairs. For nearly an hour afterwards he had been busy downstairs trying to get everything sorted for the rest of the week.

Now he punched the buttons into the elevator to take him up to the fourth floor. He felt exhausted and more than ready to just go upstairs and go to sleep. He wondered if Moira was still awake, waiting for up for him as she so often did. Charles considered that and smiled to himself. Well, maybe not go to sleep** immediately**.

The doors opened and he rolled out into the corridor. Their room was close to the elevator and he went there immediately. He put the key into the lock and paused. There were some noises coming from inside the room, very faint. Charles wondered if she had just come out of the shower or something. Either way she was definitely awake and he took this into consideration as he unlocked the door and went inside.

He nearly rolled backwards into the hallway out of shock. Moira was on their bed, dressed in a bathrobe. He noted that her hair had been blow-dried, he knew for a fact that she hated to go to bed with wet hair. An envelope had been opened and lay at the foot of the bed. If he craned his neck he could see that the paper it had contained had dropped to the floor. Her legs were drawn up to her chin and her face was buried in her hands.

She was also sobbing. This shocked him because he had, in their long acquaintance, never seen her cry. Well, not like this. Tears had come to her eyes when she had sat by his bed at the hospital. They had been there when she had hobbled along on crutches and jostled her broken rib by accident. He had even seen tears on their wedding day and when he'd held her the night they had rescued her.

This was different. These sobs were shaking her entire body and made his head pound to hear them. He quickly shut the door behind him and pushed his chair to where he could get to the bed. With great difficulty he hoisted himself next to her, dragging his useless legs behind him. His arms encircled her and he kissed her forehead.

"Sweetheart, what is it?" he asked.

Moira didn't answer, but her sobs were subsiding a little under his gentle touches. He held her a little closer and then glared balefully at the envelope at the foot of the bed. Charles had no idea what it was or where it had come from. It looked official, although scrutinization showed that it wasn't from the CIA. It still looked suspicious though and he was willing to bet that it was what had caused his wife's condition.

He kissed her forehead again gently and waited to see if she would say anything. One of her hands clutched the side of his face and pulled it so that his nose touched hers. Her body shifted so that she was pressed flush against him. Moira kissed him wordlessly, almost desperate and hungry. She was still crying when they finished and she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

That was it for him. He didn't believe in reading minds if he didn't have to, but he knew that this was an emergency. Charles touched his forehead to hers and was almost immediately thrown back. There was a startling amount of emotion there, but not sadness. To him emotions were a little like colors, as were sensations. White was pain and blue was sadness. He was relieved to find that this wasn't either.

It was hard to get past without pushing too hard at it though. He concentrated and saw that her thoughts were actually rather disjointed. He saw images of the inside of a doctor's office. He saw her crying and then talking with her mother, which confused him since they hadn't seen Moira's mother in a year. The doctor's office came back along with one of the doctor's looking at a clipboard.

"We'll mail you the results," he said.

Cold twisted inside of his gut as he continued. He saw her finding the letter in the mail. She slipped it into her pocket and hurried upstairs. He could tell now that she was guiding his thoughts a little. Charles watched her agonize over the envelope, biting her lip and looking around. Moira put it down on the bed before going to take a shower, to calm herself down. Her mind flicked to when he had come into the room to find her crying on their bed.

He opened his eyes and saw that her head had tilted back and she was looking up at him. Moira's eyes were red and puffy but the tears had stopped. She was no longer crying and took his face in her hands. It was all he could do not to worry about what had been in that envelope, why she had been in tears.

Charles had been very young when his father died, even now he had no idea what it had been of. He suspected that it had been some sort of cancer. That loss had been painful and because of it he had never really known his father. To lose someone he loved to a long, wasting disease was almost more than he could bear to think about.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, "what's wrong?"

Her face cracked into a small smile.

"Nothing's wrong…I was just…blown away," she said, "I just never thought it could happen, everyone said so. The results say-"

She shook her head. Her hands moved from his face and onto his shoulders. From there they slid down his arms. Her body shifted so that his back was against him and she positioned his hands so that they rested on her stomach. Charles could feel the warmth emanating from her body even through the bathrobe.

Moira turned her head back so that she was looking him in the eye.

"-they say that I'm pregnant," she said.

Disbelief coursed through him, but there was no arguing with the expression on her face. His lips crashed onto hers, and then he began to cry too. 

* * *

><p><strong><em><em>**

**_A/N: _**_Generally I hate the Ultimate Marvel Universe for thier bizarre portrayls of my favorite characters. Nearly everyone became a jerk. However, I will say that this moment is brought by them because Moira and Charles did have a child in that universe. _


	4. Chapter 4

Erik was the first one who made Mystique feel beautiful. Whenever he would willingly touch her scaly, spiked skin she would feel wonderful. Every compliment he gave her made her glow. So much about him seemed geared towards making her feel like she was the most gorgeous creature in the entire world.

That was it though. A few months into their relationship she started to wonder if he loved her. Certainly he was attracted to her. Mystique had no doubt about that. Yet, so much of their relationship seemed physical. He always seemed happy to see her, but Erik had never once told her that he loved her.

It hurt, but she comforted herself that he just wasn't one for words. His life hadn't been filled with family and friends. Expressing his feelings was probably difficult for him. He wasn't like her brother whose fluent oratory skills had won him the hearts of so many women. Erik was silent and physical. Mystique contented herself with that reasoning.

That worked for the first year. As their Brotherhood grew she found herself increasingly away from him. He would never write to her and gave her only terse orders through the phone. She told herself that it was for security reasons. When she saw him again and he didn't say he missed her, Mystique again decided that it was because he wasn't a verbal kind of person.

That explanation lasted no time at all. Her latest mission was months away from him and she felt her resolution waver. No longer did she feel beautiful; she felt neglected and unloved. Mystique tried to stay strong but it was like all of her work over the past year had been nullified. She was once again an ugly creature that had to hide. After all, it seemed apparent that the man who had first called her beautiful didn't love her.

More worries bombarded her. Did he even think that she was really beautiful? Or was he only with her because his idea of beauty was focused around mutants? The less human a person looked the more he appeared to be impressed with them. Everyone was accepted, a message he seemed to solidify by having a lover with yellow eyes, red hair, and blue skin.

In that mood she went downstairs and downed half of a six-pack. She'd cried for a little bit, then stopped because she was afraid someone would hear her. After an hour Azazel, the other member of the Brotherhood who shared her mission, wandered downstairs. He hadn't said much, just quirked an eyebrow at her and picked up a beer. They sat in silence for a while, just drinking. Then, feeling that she had nothing to lose, she leaned over and kissed him.

He'd kissed back. She had been a little surprised but pleased and, well, one thing had led to another. She woke up the next morning in his room. It had been an odd sensation, waking in an unfamiliar bed. Mystique had figured out whose it was when a red hand had stroked the side of her face.

She'd jumped out of the bed dragging a sheet behind her. Most times she would walk around with no covering at all but she suddenly felt self-conscious. He'd stared at her with a strange expression and she'd all but fled the room. The next hour was spent in her room with the doors locked, her chin on her knees and rocking back and forth in a soothing motion.

Later, when she had the chance to collect herself she realized how incredibly rude she had been. She winced when she thought of how she had acted. Rather shyly she returned to his room. She wasn't sure whether to be in and was part relieved and part scared when she realized he was there.

He gave her a side smile and she instantly felt terrible. Swallowing she sat on the edge of his bed.

"You left early," he said.

Mystique felt something stick in her throat. She'd never been in this situation before.

"I think we need to talk," she said.

Azazel inclined his head towards her. He teleported so that he was sitting next to her.

"Listen," Mystique said carefully, "I know you know that I'm together with Erik."

"We all know," Azazel said, smirking, "But you weren't with him last night, nyet?"

She felt herself flush and the urge to slap him came over her. Mystique couldn't be insulting though; she owed him that much. At the same time she didn't know how to make herself clearly understood.

"No, but I was really drunk last night," she agreed, "I don't mean that as…I mean…"

He rested his chin on his hand. Azazel wasn't hostile, which made her glad. Thus far he was simply listening with polite interest.

"I didn't want to cheat on him," she said, "I was upset and drunk. You had had a few drinks too and we were in the same room… and… basically last night…"

Mystique swallowed.

"Last night was wrong. I'm really sorry that you had to get mixed up in it."

Azazel raised an eyebrow. She couldn't see any malice in his expression. The polite interest had disappeared, sure enough. It had been replaced by amusement and he started laughing. However, it didn't seem like he was laughing at her exactly. Maybe it was amusement over the strangeness of their situation? Yes, that was what it must have been. Mystique felt relieved; he understood.

Then he grabbed the back of her head and pulled her into a kiss. It had been intense. She'd meant to pull away, she really had, but for some reason she hadn't. Instead she'd spent another hour in his room. Mystique had been there the next night, and several nights after. There were a few nights when she hadn't gone to him, but she knew they were few and far between.

Mystique told herself that she wasn't emotionally invested in Azazel. They laughed together during the day, talked about so many things. It was nice to be around him, even though she'd seen him kill with a ruthless efficiency in the field. However, the one she loved deep down was Erik. She kept telling herself that. One morning she'd even rolled over and told Azazel

"You know that this isn't…a relationship right?" she asked, "What we have, you know it's not permanent."

"Da," he said, "You'll run back to Magneto the moment he gets here. And there will be nyet looking back."

"Exactly."

Azazel smiled politely.

"So just enjoy it," he said.

Eventually the mission had ended and she'd seen Erik again. Mystique had felt genuinely excited to see him again. What happened with Azazel was in the past; there was no need for him to be hurt because she'd been feeling lonely. So Mystique had given a curt nod to Azazel that morning and gone in ready to go back to Erik.

She wasn't sure just what she was expecting, but she was disappointed. Erik had given her a cold kiss on the forehead of all things in welcome.

"I'm glad you completed your mission, but I'm just on my way out," Erik said, "There's a situation developing in Canada that I have to be there for."

Out of the corner of her eye she thought she'd seen Azazel smirking. She'd given him a good long look but his face was an indifferent mask.

"No, that's fine," she said.

She'd hoped that he'd apologize to her, or at least, make some promise to come back soon. Instead he'd nodded to her and gone straight back to gathering his things. Anger bubbled in her, anger and rejection. When Erik shut the door on the way out Mystique was in Azazel's arms again.

Deep down she knew what she was doing was wrong. Yet, part of her wondered if Erik would be all that hurt. How could he be when he never seemed to care about her? When she was with Azazel she felt not only beautiful, but treasured. Erik would kiss her and ghost his fingers across her skin. Azazel would all but devour her. Erik wasn't one for words. Azazel would whisper things in Russian to her that she couldn't understand until she fell asleep.

One word that she caught more than any other was 'Raisa'. He would whisper it while he thought she was asleep and his fingers combed through her hair. Somehow she knew that it was some sort of name for her. Mystique never asked what it meant though; she had a feeling he would just smirk at her and quirk an eyebrow.

It would also be acknowledging that he had a sort of pet name for her. If she acknowledged that then she would give voice to a niggling doubt in the back of her head. The doubt was deep rooted and terrifying. It was only a problem when she took into account that despite everything she still loved Erik. She was going to Azazel for attention and that was all. This was something that she knew; she had even told Azazel this. The doubt simply said that he didn't believe her.

* * *

><p>Emma sipped from a crystal glass that was filled with champagne. She pulled it away from her face and looked at it. Her hands wore silk gloves with diamond rings over them. Her matching tiara, earrings, and necklace were, in her opinion, rather grand. An elegant white evening gown caressed her body and pooled on the floor. When she'd first heard that all members of the Hellfire Club had to dress in Victorian wear when in the club she'd thought it silly. However, visibly dressing like an aristocrat did make it easier to see yourself as one.<p>

Smiling she leaned back, letting herself sink into the comfortable chaise she'd brought up. This was certainly an upgrade from when she'd been trapped within the Brotherhood's ranks. As the White Queen of the Hellfire Club she had been indulging in her own plots and the good life ever since.

She tapped the champagne glass against the side of the couch as Jason Wyrngarde, or Mastermind as he liked to be known, took a seat opposite her.

"Jason," she said.

"Sorry I'm late," he said.

"For you," she said, "I wait. Would you like some champagne?"

"No thank you."

"Suit yourself."

Taking another sip of champagne she said;

"So what do I owe this pleasure to? It's not often that I hear from you."

"Well," Jason said, "I'd actually like to ask you for a favor."

"About time," Emma laughed, "It's been over a year since you saved me from the Brotherhood. I was starting to wonder when you were going to cash in."

He smiled.

"Never fear, I remember everything owed to me," he said, "You see, I recently heard that the position of Black Rook was open."

Emma inclined her head. She knew where this was going.

"You're right," she said, "Unfortunately not only did Tessa die but her assassin managed to get themself killed in the attempt. With no clear successor we're going to pick from amongst the Knights and vote on our favorites."

"I'm aware," said Jason, "As a Cardinal I have no vote. But I would appreciate it if you would throw your support behind my daughter Regan."

Her eyebrows shot up and she took another sip of champagne.

"You know, I'm not really surprised," said Emma, "But I assumed you'd be trying to push your older daughter into the position."

"Oh, I have plans for Martinique," Jason said, "And they are far grander than that of a mere Rook."

Now that made sense.

"Going for Black King? Want her to become Black Queen?" asked Emma, "I feel that as a friend I should warn you; your illusions are **not **powerful enough to take the positions from thier current owners, not even with Martinique helping you."

"Don't worry," he said, "I have some theories about how to boost my power. But that's for another time. Right now I'm only worried about Regan. Fathers should take care of all of their children; not just the oldest ones."

"And what about Megan?"

He made a face.

"You know about her?" he asked.

"I know quite a bit about your bastard. You did take her in, and a third child does attract attention," Emma said, "Planning on her joining the Hellfire Club one day too?"

"She's a half-wit and an embarrassment in public," Jason said bluntly.

Leaning back Emma cocked her head.

"That's a lot to gather from a seven year old. she's what I'm supposing this means you don't provide for all of them?"

"I'll make sure she has enough money to survive, but she's stupid and weak," Jason said, "She cries and bruises easily; not at all like her other sisters. The little Princess doesn't belong."

A voice rose unbidden in the back of her mind-

_What did you expect would happen, Princess?_

Emma's hand turned into diamond and crushed her champagne glass. Jason jumped as the shattered glass and champagne foutained out.

"Jason, I enjoy our mutually beneficial friendship," said Emma sweetly, "Which is why I'm warning you not to use that term around me in reference to your daughter or anyone else again instead of just rendering you comatose. Understood?"

He gave her a strange look and nodded. Her face resumed its cheerful countenance. It was just one more conversation in the Hellfire Club.

"Don't worry, Regan has my voice. But do tell me about your plan for becoming Black King sometime," she said, "I'd be most interested."

"I will," he assured her, "I will." 

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_I'm a Mystique/Magneto fan, but Azazel and Mystique do have to get together or a key component from X2 would have been missing. I'm not going to be able to post tomorrow, so I'm jsut posting two chapters tonight. _


	5. Chapter 5

"Charles, I'm fine."

"I know sweetheart, but don't you think that you should take the elevator rather than the stairs more often?"

She glared at him.

"It only makes sense," Charles said defensively, "It must be difficult. After all; you're showing now."

Moira sighed. At five months her belly had grown to a healthy size. For a while she had been nervous about the lack of growth. Considering how much the two of them wanted this child she felt that her worry was completely justified. One of her cousins had been pregnant and started to show at three months. So the fact that she could still fit into most of her clothes at four months made her mad with worry.

At first she told herself that the date had been miscalculated. They couldn't name the date of conception and thus the date couldn't be perfectly calculated. There had been no shortage of occasions for their child to be conceived on, although it had been rather embarrassing when she had to explain that her to her doctor.

When she voiced her worries her doctor had calmly explained to her that, depending on how fit a woman was, she could end up showing later. As a former CIA agent Moira had always tried to stay in perfect shape. It certainly explained why she had yet to look pregnant. Nonetheless she had worried right to the point when her baby bump became noticeable.

After that she had calmed down. It had been a normal pregnancy thus far, hadn't it? Nothing strange had happened other than the delay of her stomach's growth. The ultrasound had shown nothing wrong. She had even learned that she was carrying a little boy from it. Moira felt confident that nothing was going to go wrong.

At the same time she had stopped worrying Charles had increased. Moira theorized that it had something to do with his nurturing nature. If he was a protective caretaker to his students then it made sense that he would be a strong force in helping his wife with her pregnancy. That was just logic.

However, like the battle over whether or not she could take the stairs, Moira felt a little exasperated. She knew that in the 18th century women wouldn't be allowed outside too much for fear they would catch a cold and miscarry. It seemed hilarious but in the Tudor era royal women were put in a room during their final months of pregnancy. They would lie in a bed, day after day, only moving to go to the bathroom. The door would be locked and food would be passed through the door via maids.

From the way Charles looked at her from time to time she had a strong suspicion that he was considering doing that.

"Taking the stairs is good for me," she argued, "I need to get a little exercise. It's not like I'm not going to go sky diving or anything."

His face contorted.

"I'd certainly hope not," he said.

"I'm not taking any risks with little David here," said Moira.

With a smile she put a hand on her stomach. She was particularly happy that they had already picked a name for their son. There had been some consternation over what to name him. Moira had wanted to name him after Charles while Charles was fond of the name David. He also said that he objected to anyone being named after him.

In the end they had compromised. Moira had decided that she hadn't wanted to force Charles to give his name to anyone, while he realized that it was something she wanted to do. So it had been decided that their child would be named David Charles Xavier. The name seemed to have a certain ring to it.

"For the millionth time I'll be fine," Moira assured him.

"Yes," he said, his face worried, "but what if something happens?"

"Nothing will happen," Moira insisted, "Nothing is wrong with either of us. He's developing normally and I'm just having the usual morning sickness."

Charles grimaced. He was supportive, but they both knew that that didn't mean that he had to like trying, and occasionally failing, to soothe her nausea.

"I can't help but worry," sighed Charles as they went into the Danger Room to meet with the boys, "It's something that I do."

"I know, and I'm glad that you're not just leaving this up to me and then running off to the bar," said Moira, "But you shouldn't worry."

"But-"

"Are you guys arguing about Baby X again?" called Alex, "'cause, you know, I've heard just about as much of that as I can take."

Moira rolled her eyes.

"Stop calling David that," she said.

"I find that Baby X works," said Sean, "I mean, sums it up pretty well. It's a Baby, and its last name will be Xavier."

"Yeah," Alex said, "So Baby X."

Moira was starting to wish that she hadn't mentioned that she was pregnant; Alex and Sean might not have noticed if no one said anything.

"If we didn't have a name then it might work," said Moira, "But you know that we finally agreed on David."

"Careful there; don't get too attached to that name," Sean said, "My parents got told that I was gonna be a girl."

"That's 'cause you **are **a girl," laughed Alex.

Sean punched him in the arm. Alex pulled back his arm to escalate when Hank stepped in between them. He held both of them at an arm's length.

"Enough," he said.

"I quite agree," said Charles, "If you're done with coming up for strange names for my son we might be able to get to work. We might want to debrief your last mission at the airfield."

Alex shoved his hands in his pockets and moved away. Swallowing Sean walked so he was standing next to Alex.

"You were outnumbered, but you did a fantastic job with minimal damage. I'm sorry that the Blackbird needs a new engine but-" started Charles.

"Can we put that off for a little bit?" asked Sean.

"Why's that?" frowned Charles.

"We uh, actually have something we want to talk to you about," he said.

Charles cocked his head.

"Yes?"

Sean swallowed again.

"We, meaning Alex and I, um, we know you're starting to put together a program so that some of the kids can go to college here."

Her husband nodded. It was one of Charles' more ambitious projects; geared towards students whose appearances might raise questions if they appeared in a normal college setting. He felt that there was no reason to deny them higher education since he'd already found that he could give them a high school one.

It was a remarkably simple operation. All that needed to be added were one or two more teachers. Several of the others already had the appropriate degrees, including Charles himself. The program was going to be launched sometime the next year. As some of his first students Hank, Alex, and Sean had found out about it ahead of time.

"Can we do that?" asked Sean.

Moira looked at Charles. He looked as though the wind had been struck out of him.

"If…if you're interested in going to college," he said, "I can certainly help you find one and get the paperwork ready. We can give you glowing letters of recommendation."

Sean scuffed the floor with his foot.

"Did you not want us to stay here?" he asked.

"That's not it," Charles said quickly, "I'd love for you to stay here. But, please don't feel like you have to. There are better schools than one just starting out in its college program."

"I don't think there are," Alex said.

For the first time in a long time Alex assumed a serious expression.

"Look, I like it here," said Alex, "I like the fact that I don't have to hide."

"But the two of you can't stay here forever," Charles said, apparently still surprised.

"There's more than that," said Alex.

He looked back at Hank, who nodded at him. Apparently they had discussed this with him before approaching them.

"I know my mutation isn't as obvious as some," continued Alex, "but I like what we're doing here. Before you guys found me I'd resigned myself to going in and out of jail because there didn't seem to be anything for me. My parents were afraid of me even if they wouldn't say it. I think they're afraid of Scott too to be honest. But I started to be someone here. I became part of something bigger than myself."

"We just know that there's more out there," Sean said, "and we want to be part of that. I never considered going to college, but I was thinking I could learn like politics or something. Hank's already making a difference with his studies, and I'd like to do that too."

"Exactly," said Alex, sounding relieved, "and then what we're doing won't just be here. I mean, by the time Baby X is going to school then things can be completely different. Maybe not, but we'll sure as hell be taking steps to making it that way."

Moira felt tears gathering in her eyes. She looked down at Charles whose eyes were looking watery as well. Gently she put a hand on his shoulder. He reached aback and held it tightly, rubbing circles on the back of her hand. Charles smiled briefly before looking up for a minute.

"When you put it that way," Charles said, his voice thick with emotion, "Then I really don't have much of a choice."

A genuine smile came onto his face.

"You have no idea what it means to me to hear this," he said, "And I suppose it means that I'd better have the program ready by the end of the year."


	6. Chapter 6

Exhausted Rose looked out the window to where Lorna and Rahne were. Rahne was sitting in Lorna's lap and allowing her to braid her long, thick brown hair. Lorna, her hair wrapped in a way that was reminiscent of a turban, sat cross-legged on the grass. It was black, as were her clothes. When she had first seen her Lorna had dressed in a myriad of colors. Now it was only black.

She sighed. It had been a hard few months for them. First Susanna had died in a car crash. Lorna had been with Rose at the time, so Rose had gotten to see how she screamed and cried when she received the phone call. It caused her to lose control of her powers, nearly destroying the facility. Luckily Rose was able to calm her down before anyone got hurt.

Then she'd heard that Susanna had listed her as Lorna's primary caregiver in her will. It shocked Rose; she had only known Susanna for a few months. They were friends, but surely someone else had closer ties? Upon closer investigation it turned out that no, no one did. Susanna's mother had died during childbirth and her father died when Lorna was four. As for friends Susanna had been somewhat solitary due to Lorna's mutation.

The funeral was held the next week. It poorly attended, proof to how few people they'd known. The few people there seemed the primary motive in Susanna leaving Lorna in her care. Susanna's other motive, shown by a note in the will, was that she thought that Rose would be able to best understand and help Lorna.

Feeling strange she had welcomed Lorna into her home, although the girl was understandably upset. There would be periods where she lost control again and Rose or Rahne would have to run to her side. They would always know because objects would start rattling which made it dangerous for them to be around her. It was disturbing to see the quiet girl Rose had come to know flailing in her sleep.

During the day Rahne was able to pull her out of her shell a little more. The two girls had a close bond. Rose simply stood by and tried to be understanding. One week ago she'd tentatively given her a leather-bound journal. Rose had held it out to her one morning at breakfast. Lorna stared at its worn cover for a few minutes before looking up at Rose questioningly.

"It…it's an account of your mother's life," Rose explained, "She put it with the lawyer. She said she'd never told you much about what her childhood had been like or anything at all about your father. It might have been too painful for her to just say."

With big eyes Lorna nodded.

"And the note that came with it said she didn't want to mess it up, so she wrote it down. She was going to give it to you when you were older."

Lorna had taken the journal with trembling hands. She'd ran over the cover, tracing the letters that were burned into the leather.

"Polaris," she read.

The girl had looked up, her eyes swimming with tears.

"It was her old nickname for me. She said I was her guiding star," Lorna said.

She'd burst into tears and Rose had put an arm around her. That had been Lorna's last outburst. Sometimes she'd see her reading it and, despite herself, felt curiosity about its contents. None of them knew much about Susanna except she'd been a good woman who'd loved her daughter. Really that was all that mattered, but Rose did still wonder sometimes.

Her only conversation with Susanna that had shed some light on her past had come two weeks before her death.

"You've helped me so much over the past few weeks," Rose had said, "I can't thank you enough. I'm so glad that you documented the progression of Lorna's mutation."

"It was all I could do," Susanna shrugged, "I just wanted her to be able to live with it, to somehow use it as a force of good in her life. But there was an incident with knives where…where she ended up nearly stabbing herself."

"I'm so sorry."

Susanna looked down.

"She was eight and it scared her badly," she said, "I got her involved in dance and gymnastics to try and give herself something about her that she could control."

"Sounds like a good idea," Rose said, "I'll have to try that with Rahne."

"It did seem to work," Susanna said, "But I think she's still afraid and I hope she won't live her life in fear. I try to let her know that I see her as a beautiful girl who's special but-"

"It's hard," finished Rose, "I'm having the same problem with Rahne. Craig really messed with her mind. I'd like to smack him and whoever left her with him. No kid deserves that."

Her friend nodded. Rose hesitated; her next line of inquiry was incredibly delicate and she didn't want to mess things up.

"I um…ran into a slight roadblock while working on Lorna's DNA," said Rose, "and I was wondering…since I have your blood sample, if you could tell me-"

"You're going to ask about Lorna's father, aren't you?" Susanna asked, grimacing.

Rose winced. That had gone well. Susanna narrowed her eyes.

"I knew you'd ask eventually. If you must know," she said, "I was eighteen and in love. No, we weren't married. No, I'm not a tramp. We weren't really intimate, just a few times-"

"I'm not judging you," said Rose quickly, "I mean, I was married without love. Makes sense to me that you can have love without being married. This is purely for data."

Susanna looked surprised.

"I've hypothesized that the mutation might be carried on the Y chromosome," continued Rose, "I'm sure I could confirm it and it would really help us understand mutations."

She took a deep breath.

"What you say about a few times makes sense too. I think the gene **wants **to be passed on and it's strong. That allows it to leap barriers," said Rose, "But if any of that's to be proved then I need cases where that happened."

Pausing she shuffled her folders again.

"I just want to know if Lorna's father exhibited any form of a mutation."

Susanna closed her eyes, like she was concentrating. Then she shook her head.

"No."

"Are you sure?" asked Rose.

"I'm positive. It's not like you can hide something like that from someone you spent every day with for years," said Susanna.

"Alright, the subject is closed," Rose said.

There was a shriek from outside. Rose's eyes focused back to teh presentand she looked back at the girls. Rahne had crawled out of Lorna's lap and started running away. Lorna got to her feet, laughing, and chased after her. It was good to see her laughing again. It was good that they had met each other; other mutants that could convince them that what they had was natural.

Walking over to her desk she took out one of the folders and opened it. Rifling through she found the application that she had placed inside of it, along with a picture clipped to it. At the moment she felt proud. They'd soon have even more evidence of this widespread gene. She had no reason to be apprehensive. After all, she didn't know that accepting the application was the greatest mistake of her life. 

* * *

><p>"So, Regan is now Black Rook," said Emma.<p>

Jason sighed in contentment. Emma tilted her head at him as they walked through the halls together.

"And I assume your plans to be Black King are going ahead?" she asked.

He nodded.

"You were right when you said I needed more power before I could defeat the current holder and take the position. I don't think the Queen will go down easy either," he said, "Which is why I will have to use all of my abilities and allies. Both my daughters will fight by my side. We simply need a power boost."

"So you've said," Emma pointed out, "And what's this power boost?"

"Oh, our powers of illusion are creations half in the physical realm and half in the psychic," said Jason, "But both can be enhanced by the use of cosmic energy. We simply need to inject ourselves with it. Like a…vitamin shot if you will."

She threw her head back and laughed.

"What, you just have a whole bunch of cosmic energy lying around?" asked Emma.

He smiled.

"No, but I have some theories on where to find it," he said, "Just stay tuned for developments my dear Queen."

Jason cocked his head.

"By the way," he said, "I've had some thoughts about Megan. Perhaps she could be useful one day after all."

"Oh?" asked Emma, "What made you decide that?"

"She is my daughter; she must be bound for greatness somehow," shrugged Jason.

She resisted the urge to punch him. In her experience men's greatest weakness was their ego. It made them easy to manipulate but also insufferable to be around.

"I was considering begging your favor to make her your page," said Jason, "If anyone could beat some sense into her it would be you."

Outwardly she smiled at the flattery; it was part of her glittering White Queen facade, the same was wearing white all the time. She'd built it around her like a shield, letting Emma look out of it when she could afford it. So it was Emma who made a face. She caught the connotations perfectly; he was too lazy to help his daughter. What a dreadful father. It was then that she decided that she hated the man next to her. However, she hated most of her 'friends'.

Still Emma had a soft spot for children. The White Queen facade despised the little pests, but Emma liked them. It might be nice to indulge Emma every now and then.

"I'll take it into consideration," Emma said.


	7. Chapter 7

Moira stretched in their bed. Charles had already left for the morning; he had classes to teach. As for herself she wasn't usually needed until the afternoon. That was when her tutoring classes were on Friday. Until then she could take her morning at a much slower pace, lie in bed for a little longer and then wander down for brunch.

Up until two weeks ago she hadn't slept in so long. She'd had more tutoring sessions and duties. She'd only agreed to stop doing her full rotation in the seventh month of her pregnancy. Now that David was two weeks away from making his debut in the world she was taking it considerably slower. Moira was independent; not stupid. There was no way that she was going to overtax herself if it risked the health of her child.

That morning was one of her worst. Her stomach was hurting; probably due to David's over activity. She felt sluggish too. Moira wasn't tired enough to go back to sleep but not energized to get up. She didn't even feel motivated by hunger to go downstairs. After an hour of lying in bed she forced herself to get up and get dressed.

She picked a loose dress that fell to mid shin level. It wasn't a particularly flattering shade of blue, but it was her most comfortable maternity dress. Moira slipped into her shoes and brushed her hair. After washing her face she felt a little better and put on shoes so she could go into the hallway. She sighed deeply before she pushed the button for the elevator.

Walking into it she stretched again and rested her hands on her belly. Moira still felt bleary and exhausted. She'd only taken a few steps and she wondered why this was. Her stomach still hurt and she hoped that she wasn't going to have morning sickness again. The last time she had barely made it to a bathroom. She hadn't thrown up in front of the kids yet and she wanted to keep it that way.

The doors to the elevator opened and she went into the kitchen. It was empty at ten thirty in the morning. There was some orange yoghurt in the fridge that generally served to settle her stomach. Charles explained that it was something about the citrus smell and flavor. She just accepted that it made her feel better in the morning and moved on.

Leaning back against the counter Moira fished out a spoon. She opened up the yoghurt packet and spooned some into her mouth. It felt like heaven. Moira closed her eyes in pleasure and put a large spoonful into her mouth. Already her stomach was starting to feel less like a chemical factory.

Finishing up the yoghurt pot she threw it away and put the spoon in the sink. Then, to her surprise, her stomach started to hurt again. She had barely time to frown before a wave of crippling pain went through her. Moira's hand shot out and gripped the counter for support. Her other hand settled on her stomach and she looked around, panicked. By the time she'd gotten her balance back completely there was another wave.

Stumbling a little she collapsed in a nearby chair, panting. Her mind automatically went to her husband. He was just down the hall, teaching biology. Or was it chemistry? Didn't matter. That wasn't too far away; he could get here fast if he hurried. He'd hurry for this. Gritting her teeth she thought as loud as she could;

_Charles, get in the kitchen NOW!_

__Two minutes, and two waves of pain later, she saw Charles all but shoving himself through the door. She winced as she heard his wheelchair scraping up against the wood of the doorframe when he crammed himself through. He saw her in the chair and holding her stomach. She must have made quite the picture.

"What's wrong, what's happening?" he asked, clearly panicked.

She gave him an even stare. She was surprised that she could manage that, considering that what she now knew were contractions were starting in earnest.

"I'm having the baby Charles."

His eyes widened.

"But…but he's not due for another two weeks!"

"Yes-"

"How can he be coming two weeks early!" asked Charles, "That's not what they told us. How could that man call himself a doctor and not get this right?"

Moira swallowed.

"Charles, love of my life, I know you're worried. But please understand my position, because I don't think my going into labor is up for discussion," she said, her whole jaw clenched, "And unless you want David to be born in the kitchen, then you are going to get me to the hospital. Okay?"

Still wide-eyed Charles nodded. 

* * *

><p>Charles wished that he was allowed in the delivery room. Instead, being a man, he had been banished to the corridor outside. Admittedly his wheelchair probably would have made things inconvenient, but he worried about his wife being surrounded by strangers. Moira would want him with her, he was sure of that.<p>

And what, pray tell, was he supposed to do in the corridors? The hospital didn't seem to particularly care. He supposed that the nurses thought he would pace and do silly things like try to read the newspaper upside down. And they expected him to do this in front of his three students who had accompanied him no less.

However, Charles Xavier was not the sort of man to do anything that ridiculous. He was a man who had seen the darkness inside the minds of humans and mutants alike. He had seen countries fight and hundreds of missiles being sent straight at him. He had been shot in the back and then had that bullet draw straight out again. He was a man who had gone into combat against mutants with supernatural powers armed only with his mind.

He was also a man that was going slowly and painfully insane. He could see people going into the room, had been able to see them for the past several hours. None of the doctors or nurses had answered any of his questions; telling him only that she would be delivering soon. They had fed him that same line for hours.

Charles was a hair's breadth away from piggy-backing a medical official's mind. He would have done that already if he hadn't been afraid that it might make things difficult for her. The last thing he wanted was a confused doctor messing things up. Whenever the door opened he could hear her crying out though. It was only contributing to the feelings of madness. He hadn't felt so helpless in a very long time.

Across from him Hank gave him a reassuring smile. Hank had put on his image inducer so that he could blend in with the other patients. Sean and Alex sat beside him, although Sean was falling asleep. He appreciated the moral support of his first three students and their wait for 'Baby X'. At the same time he could tell that Moira's thirteen-hour-and-counting-delivery was wearing on them.

Feeling pale and tired he did once again the only useful thing he could do; contact her.

_Sweetheart? _he thought.

_Charles? I'm so glad you're back, _Moira thought, even her thoughts sounding tired,_ They keep saying breathe, breathe, and I can't answer them back and tell them that I'm __**already **__breathing. You'd think they'd notice. _

He gave a weak laugh. Her thoughts were tired, but they were still coherent.

_I wish they'd let you in, _Moira said, _It's stupid that they're not. I keep asking them and they keep redirecting my questions. You'd think the woman having the baby would be able to get some answers-_

There was a flash of white. He winced at the onslaught but kept his connection to Moira. She needed him and he was going to be there for her.

_Calm you mind-_

_Don't you start on me too Charles, _she thought, _Everything really hurts right now and…and I don't know what's happening…_

_It's okay sweetheart, _Charles thought, _I'm here, and I'm not going to leave you. _

Moira's next thought came after some time and several white flashes.

_Thank you. I'm trying to be brave but I'm scared and I don't know these people and…_

_Don't be scared, _he answered, _You're doing wonderfully. Besides, I'm sure that David's just taking his time for a grand entrance. You do still want to name him David, don't you?_

_Of course, _laughed Moira, _It took us ages to work that one out. And if we fudge on the name then we could end up with the boys naming him Baby X. He'd never forgive us. _

Charles smiled and then felt an overwhelming burst of white that shoved him from her mind. Although he couldn't really feel the pain he was still thrown by it. He slumped in his chair and Hank looked at him in concern.

"I'm fine," Charles gasped.

Closing his eyes he returned to her mind. The pain was increasing now and he could hear the faint words of the nurses and doctors. His son was on the way.

_I'm still here, _he assured her, _Everything's going to be okay, it's going to be okay. _

_Stay with me, please. _

_I will sweetheart, everything's going to be okay. _

The flashes were increasing in intensity and frequency. His fingernails dug into the armrests of his wheelchair and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly. The pain she was experiencing was making it difficult to stay in her mind. Every survival instinct that he had cultivated told him to stay out, to stop trying to comfort her and whisper endearments. However, he had promised her that he would be there. And he would be there no matter how much discomfort it caused him.

Suddenly the bursts stopped and simply became a dull pain in the background.

_Charles, _Moira thought, _You need to…Charles…_

He felt her open her mind a little. Despite his mental exhaustion he peered out to see what she did. He saw a bawling infant being cleaned by two nurses.

"It's a healthy little boy," said one.

She picked up a blanket and wrapped its softness around his son. Very gently they settled him into Moira's arms. Despite her weakness she reached for him and stroked his small face with the tips of her fingers. He could tell that she was smiling at him. Moira shifted so that she could get a better look at her son, their son.

Tears ran down his cheeks and he gave a helpless smile.

_I love you Moira, _he thought, _I love you so much._

_I love you too Charles. _

The baby's hand reached out and touched Moira's face.

_David Charles Xavier_, she thought, _Our beautiful boy._


	8. Chapter 8

"Alright little one, be a good boy and go to sleep. Then mommy will know that daddy can do just as good a job as she can at putting you to sleep."

David looked at him with bleary eyes. At three months David was a quiet child, and rather prone to grabbing things. Several times he had pulled Charles' hair if he made the mistake of getting too close to him. Moira had also had several close calls and she had taken to pulling her hair back. He, of course, didn't have enough hair do that. Charles almost thought that it would be worth it to shave his head if it meant that his son would stop pulling his hair.

Yawning David reached out with his hand. He grabbed onto Charles' finger, his entire hand curling around it. Everything about his tiny son seemed unreal. Just the other day they'd been decorating the nursery. They'd used the room next to theirs; it had been empty for a long time since it was too small for a teacher. Now it had been painted a soft yellow and a cradle had been moved in for 'Baby X'.

Many of the students, or their parents, had sent congratulatory notes or gifts. Doug had gone out of his way to give his favorite teacher a book of fairy tales.

"My mother used to read these sorts of stories to me when I was little," he said.

Those were big words coming from an eleven-year-old boy. She had thanked him and put them on a nightstand in the room next to theirs. Moira had been the chief designer of the nursery. Charles had helped as much as he was able, and Hank, Alex, and Sean had also lent their skills in remodeling.

He smiled when he thought of his three students and their interesting attempts to help model the room. Hank had set up an innovative speaker system so they could hear if their child was crying. Sean had baby-proofed the room. Alex had blasted a hole through the wall so a door could be added that connected the room to theirs. Charles was starting to wonder if his newfound maturity was only applicable to select matters.

Even his first meeting with his son had seemed unreal. He had first seen him in person through glass, nearly an hour after his actual birth. Then he had been able to finally visit his exhausted wife; her hair sweaty and plastered to her pillow. He'd never thought she'd looked more beautiful and took the opportunity to remind her how wonderful she was.

His first three students, who'd waited nearly as long as he had, shuffled in after a few minutes. They brought with flowers and candy to congratulate her. When they'd gotten to see David they'd made complimentary remarks, but seemed too nervous to ask to hold him. They might be exemplary young men, but they seemed at a loss when it came to babies.

Soon after they saw David they had left, nonplussed by the family moment. Someone needed to tell the school and keep it running after all. Charles had made it quite clear that he was spending the night at the hospital. If he hadn't been allowed to be near his wife during the delivery, then he would at least be near her afterwards.

They'd left the next morning with David in tow. Together they had laid him in his crib, completing the nursery. They had the weekend with him before they had to return to work Moira had, of course, had bed rest for another week before she returned to her normal duties. All of these duties included a rather quiet David that she held with her.

David's hand let go of his finger before grasping another one. So much about him was small and fragile. The little boy felt like a doll in his hands; a doll that he could crush or break if he wasn't careful. It went without saying that he was always very careful whenever he handled his son.

Still being careful he gingerly laid David into his crib. David yawned again and pushed at his face with his tiny fists.

"Hey David," he said, "Ready to go to sleep?"

There was another yawn. David pushed at the air with his fists one more time before falling asleep. Charles stayed for another minute before wheeling into the room next door. The door had stayed open for the next week, but the radio system that Hank had built gave them the ability to hear it whether or not the door was open. That night he closed it gently; he never knew what action he did might wake David up.

Moira was reading a book when he came in. She closed it and slid off the bed. With a smile she walked over and laid a kiss on his forehead.

"How's he doing?"

"Out like a light," he said.

"Time we should go to sleep too," she yawned, "Now come on. "

She pushed the wheelchair so that it was next to the bed. Early in their marriage he hadn't wanted her to help him move from one location to another. It had been embarrassing for him. As time went on he had allowed her to do it on occasion, mostly when he was feeling tired or sick. With her help he got into bed more easily then he could have done by himself. On this one occasion it came as a great relief since he had been dealing with David for the past half hour.

Moira slipped in next to him. Her head rested in the crook of his neck and her arms wrapped around him. It was a pleasant sensation, warm both physically and mentally.

Sighing he nuzzled her gently.

"So, how was your day?" he asked.

"Things have been busy," she said, "But that happens now that we've got a baby."

"Yes," he said, "You still haven't answered my question though."

"Well, Doug's making incredible progress in history," said Moira, "I'm glad; he's so good with math and science it seemed like a shame that that should be the only thing holding him back from having good grades."

"I'm glad too," said Charles, "And I think that I've finally gotten Sean to focus his voice into one specific area. That way it won't impede his teammates so much in the future."

There was a pause.

"You know, the boys were talking to me earlier," she said.

He turned his head.

"And?" he asked.

"Alex suggested that we maybe recruit a few more members," Moira said tentatively, "I'm sure that some of the students would be interested."

Charles pursed his lips.

"You know my views on that sweetheart," he said, "You know that I can't let that happen. I won't make children fight for me."

"A lot of your students aren't children anymore," Moira pointed out, "Many of them have been through more than most adults."

"And you think that I should put them through more?" demanded Charles.

She gave a frustrated sigh.

"Charles, we're outnumbered," she said, "The Brotherhood is growing. They only mentioned it because they're worried about facing bigger odds. Last time-"

"Was nearly seven months ago," he interrupted, "and it was a terrible plan to take over an airfield."

"Last time it was Hank, Sean, and Alex up against five of the members of his Brotherhood," continued Moira, undaunted, "If those they had faced had been any better trained then things would have gone horribly wrong."

"But they weren't."

"But they will be," said Moira, "I just don't think that we should make them fight alone."

"I'm not **making **them do anything."

"You know what I mean. They're a big part of this and they'll be the ones to get hurt if they're outnumbered."

He gave a deep sigh. She did have a point, one that he himself had thought of on several occasions.

"I'll think about it," he said, "But I make no promises."

Moira looked relieved and she snuggled deeper into his neck. The motion sent shivers down his spine and he stroked her hair. She looked up at him with a question in her eyes but a smile on her lips. Then the phone on the bedside table rang. He cursed his luck at the inanimate object's inopportune timing.

Moira leaned over and picked it up.

"Moira Xavier," she said.

She smiled.

"Hi Aunt Rose," said Moira, "It's good to hear from you. Why're you calling at this hour? It's not exactly the best time."

Charles propped himself up and watched as Moira became puzzled.

"Pink chintz? Pearls?" she asked.

Her frown deepened.

"Okay, I'm glad for you. But what-?"

She pulled the phone away from her abruptly.

"She hung up on me," Moira said, "She never does that."

Charles tilted his head. He had met Moira's aunt Rose during the preparation for their wedding. She was a talented geneticist, if not a smidgen eccentric. However, it had been nice to talk to someone who was receptive of his theories. Rose had also been very close to Moira, which was all Charles needed to know to try and get on her good side. She didn't seem to be the kind of person who would hang up on her favorite niece.

"What were you talking about?" he asked.

"Shopping," said Moira, "but she doesn't shop. And she hates pink. And pearls. She thinks that they're disgusting. She also mentioned a skirt. I've **never** seen her wear a skirt."

Biting her lip she turned to him.

"Something's wrong. I need to get down to Massachusetts."

"I thought she lived in Scotland."

"She does. She's doing a research project up there," said Moira, "I need to check on her."

"What about David?" Charles asked, concerned.

She hesitated.

"He's so small I couldn't possibly take him with me. Especially if something's wrong. You're good with him, I can make arrangements," Moira said, "But if I took the Blackbird then I could be back within the day. He'll stay here. It's safer for him."

Charles felt something twist in his stomach. This wasn't something he wanted to hear.

"Do you really think something's wrong, as in dangerous wrong, over there?" he asked.

Her hands cupped his face.

"She doesn't talk like this Charles. Something's wrong. Either that or she's gone insane."

Moira gave a nervous laugh.

"I'm not ruling either out."


	9. Chapter 9

Hank had been kind enough to give her a ride. She ccould operate the Blackbird herself, but Hank was and would always be the expert on it. And since he technically wasn't a student anymore he could do whatever he pleased and it wouldn't interfere with any of his classes. He spent most of his time fiddling with technology; improving their suits or the plane. The last attack from the Brotherhood had left holes in Sean's uniform which he was duly repairing.

He was explaining the new details on the trip to her aunt's. Moira nodded along, although she wasn't following a word he said. A few times she had nearly fallen asleep, lulled into a doze by Hank's explanations. One day she decided she'd take some classes. Being married to Charles and constantly around people like Hank made her feel lost at times.

The Blackbird landed some ways away from the facility that she knew her aunt was staying in. Luckily she'd chosen a place that was on the very outskirts of Boston. The enclosed field that they were in would hide the plane nicely for a few hours. Moira could walk from there. Then, once everything was sorted, they could leave quietly.

She walked through the field and into the sparsely populated area. Only a handful of people were on the streets which made it easy to walk around. Every now and then she consulted a piece of paper with her aunt's address on it. With no difficulty she found her way to the squat, ugly building her aunt had rented. Tentatively she knocked on the door.

She waited for a while, and then she heard the scraping of a lock being pulled back. The sound was repeated eight times which increased her worry. When the door opened she was unceremoniously jerked inside. Moira stumbled into the entryway with her aunt doing the locks back up.

Rose turned to her and Moira took in the gaunt woman who had once been her cheerful aunt. She gave Moira a one-armed hug.

"Thank goodness you're here. It's been hell," she said, "I knew talking about pink chintz would get you over here. I'm sorry I couldn't speak frankly; I was afraid they have the phones tapped. They cut the electricity soon after I called you."

Moira was incredibly worried now.

"What's happening?" she asked.

Rose bit her lip.

"Let's go into the living room."

Without another word she followed her aunt. Upon entering the room in question Rose flopped down on the couch and threw her head back. Moira sat next to her.

"Now, I know I can trust you," Rose said, "And I heard…from people, that you've had dealings with people with the x-gene."

She shifted uncomfortably. How had her aunt got hold of that information? If **she** knew then how many others did?

"No need to say anything," continued Rose, "Like I said, I know."

Her aunt ran her hands through her hair.

"The first time I heard your husband's theories I was nearly overwhelmed," she said, "I was busy at the time, but I decided that I'd come back to it."

"Come back to it?" grinned Moira.

"I said **nearly **overwhelmed," said Rose, "I was working on a project for Stark Industries. But when I finished I decided to get going. For nearly a year I've been collecting data on the x-gene. I just wanted to see how it worked, help everyone see it as normal I guess."

Moira blinked, surprised.

"Why didn't you talk to my husband?" she asked, "He's the leader in that field."

"I was going to, but then things took off and you got pregnant so I figured he had bigger things to worry about," said Rose, "Congratulations by the way."

She shot her a quick smile.

"But I found two mutants that I was collecting data from. They both carry the gene and have manifested it."

Again Moira felt uncomfortable. It must have shown on her face.

"It was just things like taking their temperatures and a few MRIs," said Rose defensively, "See their powers, see which areas of brain activity manifested during use. That sort of thing."

Rose sighed.

"Susanna Dane, God rest her," she said, "was a concerned parent. That's how her daughter Lorna got involved. When I found Rahne she had been…abused. She was so little, just a sweet little girl who'd been hurt…"

She trailed off. Moira looked down; it was a common story at the institute.

"I adopted her to save her," said Rose, "and when Susanna died she left Lorna to me so I could help her. And I didn't. I didn't help either of them."

Trying not to show her shock that her aunt had decided to adopt at her age Moira put a hand on her shoulder.

"Thanks," said Rose, "It was going good but…I wanted to admit a third subject to the project. His name was Jason Stryker."

Moira froze.

"Colonel Stryker has a **son**?" asked Moira, "A **mutant **son?"

"Some form of a telepath," said Rose, "I assume you've met his father before. He mentioned your name. Said; 'Your niece had a soft spot for freaks too. You wouldn't believe the lengths she went to protect them; betraying her species and country. Truly women are the weaker sex.'"

"Asshole," Moira said.

Rose cocked her head in curiosity. She felt compelled to say something.

"The CIA commissioned a team of mutants to help resolve a situation," Moira said, "I was acting as their liaison. When they finished Stryker tried to take them out. I protested and helped hide them."

There was a pause. Her aunt nodded in approval.

"Good for you," she said, "Stryker always struck me as strange and derogatory but I wanted to help Jason. He hated himself for his condition so I kept him separate from the girls. They didn't need his negativity. But Stryker got angry when he realized I wasn't trying to cure him."

"Cure him," repeated Moira.

"That guy knows absolutely nothing about how genetics work," snorted Rose, "When he told me that I asked him if he wanted me to cure his son of his arm too, 'cause that was the equivalent of curing him of his telepathy."

Her voice took on a more somber cast.

"Then he got angry and…said that he wanted to take Lorna and Rahne in," Rose said, "He said 'the government has use of them'. God knew what would happen to them. They were right there at the table too and you should've seen their faces. They were terrified."

There was a bitter tone at the end of her words.

"And I'm guessing you told him to get lost," said Moira.

"My precise words were 'Over my dead body'," Rose replied, "But I'm starting to wonder if he took that as a suggestion instead of a warning."

"What?"

"Call me paranoid butnow the electricity's getting cut, odd people are showing up in the neighborhood, strange things are happening," Rose said, "I'm not worried about myself; people will raise questions if something happens to me. Not so much them. I don't think Stryker takes no for an answer and I'm afraid something's about to happen."

Moira bit her lip and looked was a tricky situation. Stryker was powerful. If he said that the girls were a threat and had to be removed, then he could probably get the go ahead. However, she doubted that there would be anything official about this. McCone was weak but she knew he wouldn't let children get dragged away from their homes. Her friends back at Langley told her he'd even opposed all extra efforts to track down Charles and the rest. No; Stryker would do this in secret.

If the girls were taken they would be hard pressed to prove that Stryker was responsible. He was a master cover-up artist. Rose was right to be worried.

"They'll be safe in Scotland. You know Muir Island? I could take them there," said Rose, "The only thing is I'd need fake passports. You were in the CIA, I was wondering if…?"

Her voice trailed off hopefully. Moira shook her head.

"I'll do you one better. Where are the girls now?" asked Moira.

"Upstairs," said Rose, confused.

"Call them."

Her aunt still looked confused but got up. Moira did so as well, cossing her arms.

"Lorna! Rahne!"

Two girls came downstairs. One was around sixteen, dressed in a knee-length sleeveless black dress. It flared out a little when it came to the skirt; like a ballerina. Her hair was tightly bound under black cloth. The other was hiding behind the first girl but she got a good look. She was perhaps eleven with thick braided hair.

"I'd like you to meet Lorna Dane," Rose said, gesturing to the older girl.

Lorna nodded, her expression wary.

"And Rahne Sinclair MacTaggert," said Rose with a motion towards the smaller girl.

"Just MacTaggert," came Rahne's muffled voice.

"We'll talk about that," said Rose before turning to Moira, "And both of you, this is my niece Moira Xavier."

"Hi," Lorna said.

There was a muffled noise from behind Lorna as Rahne peered out.

"Hi," she mumbled.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," said Moira, "Now, I heard about what happened with Stryker. But I think that all of us are more than enough to outmaneuver him."

Lorna smiled hopefully. Rahne peeped out a little more but stayed close to Lorna.

"Go upstairs and pack," she said, "You won't be coming back here, so you need to take as much as you need but not too much as to look suspicious."

Both girls looked at Rose who nodded. They hurried back up the stairs, their feet clomping behind them. Moira turned to Rose.

"You might want to pack too. I don't think you can come back here either, but I'll make sure to get you a flight to Scotland," she said, "Or you can stay. Depends."

"I won't be able to stay with them wherever they go, I know that," sighed Rose, "Too dangerous. But you have a safe place they can go?"

"Yes, I do," grinned Moira, "You see, there's something you should know about my husband. I'll tell you while you pack."


	10. Chapter 10

David did not like the fact that his mother was gone. While he seemed to like his father well enough, his confusion over his mother's absence was great. He started howling and crying the moment she left the manor. Several of the students with more sensitive hearing could be seen to wince throughout the day. Charles had to cover his ears just to get near to him to try and calm him down. It was a good thing he didn't have any classes to teach that day.

"Little one, calm down," Charles begged, "Come on."

His son continued to cry; only this time it was into his shirt. Sighing Charles put two of his fingers to his temples. He disliked going into other people's minds without their permission, especially that of someone as young as David. However, he felt that a few soothing waves would do a world of good.

Gently he sent a few waves as well as an image of Moira. It was going fine until a whisper of a happy sensation came back. It wasn't really a thought, not even a real feeling. Yet it still made him start and jolt David. His son didn't start crying again but Charles didn't feel particularly comforted by that.

He couldn't believe that David was projecting, even if only first contacted, at such an early age. It had been unformed and wispy, probably because David didn't really know any words and could only match feelings with images. However, Charles didn't know if this was normal. Charles' own parents weren't around to tell him if he had done the same thing so he had nothing to compare it to.

Charles had been wondering what their little boy would be like ever since he had heard that he would be a father. That was something he considered normal. What color eyes would he have? Would he have Moira's auburn mutation? Or, and Charles had wondered about this quite a bit, would he have another sort of mutation?

He'd had unconfirmed theories about whether or not his child would be like him. He might even have a completely different mutation. It didn't matter to him whether his son was a homo sapien or homo superior. He would still love him. Charles simply knew that it would complicate things somewhat.

So he had warily put his young son back to bed. The boy had gone to sleep soon but Charles couldn't stop thinking about the incident. He'd have to tell Moira about this as soon as she got back. He wheeled out of the room and got to his office, just in time to get a phone call. Feeling more than just a little exhausted he'd picked up the phone.

"Charles Xavier," he said.

"Charles, I'm heading home. I'm about seventeen minutes out."

"Thank goodness," sighed Charles, "David's been inconsolable."

"Right, I'm sure David's the only one."

He could practically hear her grin on the other side of the phone. Charles felt his ears tingle with heat.

"But," she said, "there was an interesting development with Rose."

"Such as?"

"We're going to be having some new students," she said, "Two of them to be precise."

Even though he knew she couldn't see it he raised his eyebrow.

"I am **very **interested."

Over the next ten minutes she explained. Charles felt bile rising in his throat. He'd never liked Stryker but this was something new. When she'd finished he'd said;

"I'll some rooms ready. Bring them both to my office; we'll have an impromptu orientation."

He sent out a call to some of the members of the staff. After that he didn't have long to wait. As he was fishing out the necessary forms he heard the door to his office open. Charles put on his best smile as his wife, her aunt, Hank, and two girls came in. Both of them had backpacks on and one carried a large duffel bag. From what Moira told him he was able to identify that it was Lorna who was carrying the duffel bag. What surprised him was that Rahne was holding both Lorna and Hank's hands, all but skipping between them.

Charles wheeled out from behind his desk. He proffered his hand to Rose.

"I believe we've met before," he said.

Rose took his hand enthusiastically and shook it. He winced at her grip and his wife nodded at him sympathetically.

"You're a mutant!" Rose said, "It all makes sense; of course you'd take a chance on those theories! You're living proof they're true!"

Still smiling Rose withdrew and gestured to the two girls.

"Lorna Dane and Rahne Sinclair MacTaggert."

"Just MacTaggert!" insisted Rahne.

Rose ruffled her hair and then turned back to Charles.

"Moira told me you've got some sort of school here, and from all the kids that are running around I can tell that's the truth," she said, "There was this one kid that was flying. With wings."

"We have a lot of those," said Charles.

He inclined his head to Rahne.

"I see you're making friends already," he said.

She grinned, showing her crooked teeth. Rahne let go of Lorna's hand and hugged Hank around his waist. She clanked as she moved, possibly from change that she was carrying in her pockets. Hank raised his arms and gave her a nervous pat on the head. He looked at Charles and gave a sheepish smile.

"She's been like this since she saw me," he said.

Although he seemed embarrassed Charles could tell he was secretly pleased. Most kids' first reaction was to run from him; not hug him.

"You're blue and furry," Rahne said, "It makes me feel…"

The girl frowned, looking for a word.

"Un-alone?" she ventured.

Hank looked surprised. Charles could tell, even without reading his mind, that Hank wondered what this normal-looking girl had in common with him. It was a valid question, and one that Charles had a few ideas about. Rahne had obviously met other mutants before so she must feel a special connection to Hank. Charles tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"Can you show us your mutation?" asked Charles.

Generally he found that having a new student show their mutation rather than tell gave a new level of comfort. It allowed them to know that they could do something people considered strange and no one would mind. Besides, in new situations many of the children tended to be a little tongue-tied.

Rahne let go of Hank's waist and looked down at the floor. Rose went over and laid her hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Don't worry," Charles assured her, using the words that he'd used hundreds of times before, "you're among friends."

Rahne stepped forward. She took a deep breath and then closed her eyes. Starting in the middle of her forehead a patch of fur grew. It quickly spread all over her, enveloping her hair. Her nose lengthened into a muzzle and her ears were pushed up. They became pointed and large. A tail started to swish the ground. Her fingers lengthened and grew into claws.

When she opened her eyes again they were yellow. Next to her he saw Hank look at her in silent wonder.

"That's amazing," said Charles, "And you can do that at will?"

The girl's eyes grew big and she gave a shy smile.

"Yes," she said.

He was surprised that she could still talk in that state; he'd have thought that her teeth and muzzle would have gotten in the way. Apparently not.

"You've got a lot of control for someone your age," Charles said, "I'm impressed."

Rahne gave another shy smile. Closing her eyes again the fur began to recede. Soon she was just a little girl again, although one who seemed very proud of herself. She immediately went back to hugging Hank who seemed to have more empathy now. Rose smiled and then turned to Charles.

"I'm guessing from Hank that her mutation is a common one?" she asked.

"In different forms," said Charles, "Many can't change back."

He turned to Lorna.

"And you?"

The girl reached for the black cloth that covered her hair, then hesitated.

"It's alright Lorna," Charles said.

Looking nervous Lorna undid the cloth around her hair. Green locks came spilling out around her shoulders and to her hips. The hair didn't look dyed though; and some kids did dye their hair green for jokes or theater. There was something very natural about Lorna's hair. It was the same color as her eyes, which made him wonder if the two were connected.

She folded up the cloth that had been wrapped around her hair and placed it on a chair.

"Green hair isn't my mutation, just part of it," Lorna said, "But I can't see anything I could demonstrate mine on in this office."

Rahne detached herself from Hank.

"I do!" she piped up, "I emptied my piggy bank into my pockets!"

She dug into the pockets of her jeans and came out with fistfuls of coins. Charles wanted to ask what was going on but was cut off when Rahne threw the handfuls of coins in the air.

"Go on!" she called.

Green light glowed in Lorna's eyes. She stretched out her hand and tilted her chin. The coins stopped and so did his heart. Turning her hand the coins formed a single line and moved to Lorna. They circled her arm, moving like a snake and went behind her head. She let one of them twist between her knuckles briefly. Then, under obvious strain, she guided them so that they fell right back into Rahne's pockets.

The light faded from Lorna's eyes and her hand fell by her side. It was then that she noticed that Hank, Charles, and Moira were staring at her.

"Is that really uncommon or something?" she asked uncomfortably.

Charles breathed out, slowly willing his mind to calm. With great control he forced a smile and said;

"No; we've seen it before."


	11. Chapter 11

"We can talk about it if you like."

"There's nothing to discuss."

Moira sighed.

"Charles, something happened today-"

"Nothing happened," he replied, rolling his wheelchair into the bathroom, "We signed on two new students. Hank gave your aunt a ride back to Scotland. That's it."

Frustrated she followed him into the bathroom. He gave her a side-look before he began combing his hair.

"I saw your face," she said, "You can't just say that was nothing. And there's no reason to lie about it. I'm here for you when these things happen."

"Again, nothing happened," insisted Charles.

He paused and examined the comb.

"That's twice as much hair as usual in this," he said, "I swear I'm going bald."

Charles gave her another side-look.

"Must be the stress."

"Oh I'm stressful now?" asked Moira.

"Right now, yes you are," Charles said, "A man can't even get ready for bed in peace without being nitpicked over nothing."

"That was not nothing! And don't you use that tone of voice," she said, trying to keep her voice down but failing, "You're in my head figuring out what's wrong with me anytime you like. I don't have that luxury!"

"I only do that during emergencies," snapped Charles.

"I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong," Moira said, "I have to use conventional methods like facial gives, of which you have next to none, and asking. I'm just trying to employ the second!"

"Maybe nothing's wrong so maybe I don't need your help," Charles retorted, "Now if you'd please-"

From the next room David started to cry. Moira glared at Charles before opening the door to the adjoining room and going in. She picked up David and started to rock him gently. He quieted quickly, yawning and going back to sleep. A lump formed in her throat she held him for a little longer.

"Is he alright?"

She tilted her head towards Charles.

"He's fine," she said, her tone clipped, "Just got woken up by the noise."

Moira placed him back in his crib gently. She heard Charles wheel up beside her.

"I think he might have picked up on our emotions. Things were getting rather heated," said Charles, "I…I went into his mind earlier to try to calm him down, and I felt him push back."

Her eyes widened and then she smiled.

"It figures. I always knew he'd take after his father."

Next to her Charles started. He looked at her; puzzled. It was just so comical that she had to laugh.

"And it also tells me how I always know which stuffed animal he wants," she added.

"He's not that advanced yet. I believe that's just you being a mother," Charles answered.

She smiled again and pushed his chair back into his room. On her way out she closed the door in case the emotion overflow woke David up again. Waking up too much was bad for him. Moira knelt down so she was on a more even footing with her husband. Taking a deep breath she looked him in the eye.

"I'm your wife, and I'm here to support you," she said, "But I can't help you if you don't let me in. You've let me love you Charles. I've married you, had your child. But you need to let me in."

He sighed and took her hand.

"Sweetheart…" he started.

Charles brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

"Mutations repeat," he said finally, "As a geneticist I know this. One child in Asia is born with a witch's mark in the middle of their forehead. Another is born in Canada with the same mark. These two are not related, have never met, will never even know the other existed. The same thing is true of the x-gene. I've met many other telepaths besides myself. There are many children who share certain feral traits."

His monologue lapsed into a glum silence. She drew his hand closer to her.

"But it's hard to see one again," he said softly, "hard to see something that's such a clear reminder of someone I've lost. It's just a reminder and one that I didn't expect to see."

Moira looked up and saw the hurt in his eyes. His friend's betrayal had hit him hard. That compounded with their constant struggle was only pouring salt into the wound. Grasping his hand tighter she got up. Being careful she sat in his lap and wound her arms around his neck. He leaned into her touch, burying his face in the crook of her neck. She kissed him just below the temple.

"I'm here," she murmured.

* * *

><p>Lorna's new room was nice. The bed was the right size and a large window displayed a beautiful pool. It was also bigger than any other room she'd had thus far. It had been meant for two people, but until her arrival there had been an even number of female students. So she had lucked out and gotten an entire room to herself.<p>

She'd unpacked, taking care to make sure that everything was in its place. There wasn't much; Lorna and her mother always packed light. Her mother had been a nurse and wasn't allowed to have a second job because of certain laws. Her mother had been the sole provider for her and her daughter. They didn't have extra money to spend on luxuries.

Her mother. The familiar ache in her chest started up again. Swallowing she took out her mother's journal which she'd hidden under her pillow. It always helped when she started feeling like this. Her fingers traced the word 'Polaris' on the cover once before she opened it up to her bookmark. Lorna's eyes settled on the text and she began to read.

_In 1943 my father got a job as a war hospital doctor. He wanted to do his part but wasn't fit enough for the field because of his asthma. Since no one else could take me in, he had no other family, he took me along with him. We were in a hospital in England for a time before he was transferred over to one in France in 1944. _

_That was where I started learning how to 'doctor' people. Most of my jobs were fetching things, but I also administered some drugs and applied bandages. A heady responsibility for a thirteen year old, and it made me feel important. At long last I felt like I was really doing something for my country. It wasn't long before I became a sort of mascot for the hospital. _

_Once a patient was admitted with a bullet in his shoulder named 'Sergeant Barnes'. I didn't think much of it; not until his friends came to visit. You should have seen my face the day the Howling Commandos and Captain America came into the hospital. The word star struck doesn't even begin to cover it. _

Lorna shook her head in disbelief. She read on.

_Don't believe me? Turn the page. _

She did so. There, pasted onto the paper, was a picture of a stunned little girl she assumed was her mother. Next to her were three men. One had a cast on his arm and the other two were in military uniforms. Three names had been signed on it; Bucky Barnes, Nick Fury, and Captain America. It was addressed to Susanna. Lorna was caught between laughing and crying.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She shoved the journal under her pillow and headed to the door. Lorna opened it and sighed.

"Rahne, it's eleven p.m."

"I couldn't sleep," Rahne said, looking at her with big eyes, "This house makes funny noises. Can I sleep in here tonight?"

She sighed and nodded. Rahne scampered past her and onto the bed. Lorna shut the door and got in next to her.

"I miss my mother," Rahne said almost immediately.

Lorna nodded. Dr. MacTaggert had been good to both of them. While Lorna viewed her as a friend Rahne had accepted her as her mother immediately. Rahne had been an orphan, an abused one at that, and had been eager for a connection. Lorna could sympathize, after her own mother died she had been eager to find some sort of blood relation. As it turned out she didn't have any which wasn't the best of situations.

Rahne had grown up knowing that, which is probably why Dr. MacTaggert had meant so much to her. Having a mother figure dropped into her life and then snatched away was a lot for her to handle.

"Don't worry, we'll stay in contact," said Lorna, "The headmaster's wife is her niece after all."

Rahne nodded.

"Do you think this is a good place?" she asked.

"If it wasn't then your mother wouldn't have left us here," replied Lorna, "And besides, they're nice."

She made a face when she remembered the awkward pause in the office after she exhibited her mutation. Like Rahne the headmaster had praised her control, even if she couldn't keep it up for long. He'd outlined several courses and asked a few questions about the size of the objects she could handle. Overall everyone had been very complimentary. That silence was still strange to her though.

"A little weird earlier," she added, "but overall nice."

"I haven't met the other kids though."

"What does that have to do with it?"

She heard Rahne start to chew on her lip.

"Maybe **they're** not nice."

"I'm sure they're wonderful," Lorna said.

Next to her Rahne shifted. Although she was trying to put on a brave front for the girl next to her Lorna was nervous too.

"Now let's get some sleep," said Lorna, "Big day tomorrow."

"But what if they don't like me?" asked Rahne.

She sighed, trying to bury her own doubts.

"They'll like you."

"Promise?"

Lorna hugged Rahne tightly.

"I promise." 

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_For any of you who haven't seen the Captain America movie, it was awesome. _


	12. Chapter 12

Lorna flopped onto her bed, burying her face in her pillow. It was nearly midnight now but she didn't feel tired. She found that odd; it had been a very long day. Everything around her had been strange. Not to mention that, for the first time in her life, she had gone into a public place without trying to hide her hair color in some way or another.

She knew it was a small thing. She had seen classmates whose mutations made them grow spikes on their arms or had given them wings. Such things couldn't be hidden as easily as her hair color had been. However many times she told herself that it was still different to go to school with her hair flowing freely about her.

When it had first turned green she was eight. It had happened overnight and she'd woken early in the morning with a tangle of green hair around her face. Immediately she had been seized by a fear that there was something wrong with her; something had gone wrong. She had taken extra cookies the night before when her mother wasn't looking. What if this was some sort of punishment?

It seemed silly, but the mind reaches its own conclusions when it panicks. She'd snuck into her mother's room and stolen some of her brown hair dye. With remarkable clarity she'd dyed her hair back to brown. Then she'd gone back to sleep, feeling confident that the nightmare was over.

All the next day she'd walked around with her newly dyed hair. Nothing had gone wrong and Lorna had forgotten about the night beffore. The next morning she'd walked downstairs for breakfast. Her mother had turned and her mouth dropped open. Lorna had blinked at her in surprise; she didn't know what was wrong.

"Your hair honey," her mother had said, her mouth still open.

Lorna had grabbed a chunk of her hair and stared. It was green again. The nightmare wasn't going away. It was just getting worse. She started to scream and cry, not noticing that all of the metal in the room was vibrating. Lorna only noticed it when the knives got loose from their case and nearly stabbed her.

Terrified Lorna had looked to her mother. Now Lorna could only wonder at how much bravery it had taken for Susanna to go and hold her daughter. She'd just seen what she could do and must have been afraid. However, she was lucky. Susanna had loved and supported her daughter which had given her a level of confidence. She couldn't say the same about the people who'd raised Rahne.

Her mother had given her gymnastics and dance as outlets on her frustration. Lorna had been the one to start wrapping up her own hair, hiding it. Her mother never said a word about it and she'd never sounded disappointed. That was why Lorna had never just cut it all off. That would have disappointed her mother for sure.

Still, no matter how hard her mother had tried, she'd never felt normal. Between her hair and the way metal bent to her will she felt like there was something wrong with her. She never expressed this to her mother, but somehow she knew. That was probably why she'd signed her up for Dr. MacTaggert's research.

Shifting to her back she stared at the ceiling. No one in the school had looked twice at her green hair. There had been stares, but only in the way of classmates checking out the new girl. It was the best possible thing that could have happened to her. A new level of confidence was growing. There was nothing to hide anymore.

At lunch she'd met up with Rahne. The girl had mixed feelings. Her former education had been poor and she was suffering in class. Tutoring was mentioned and she'd been paired up with another student who'd help her constantly. Rahne had pointed out a boy named Doug a few tables down. She'd told Lorna that he'd smelt funny. Oh, he was also a boy.

As for herself the education had been normal. There were different subjects she could take at this school, like 'Mutation Control'. She was starting to learn how to use her mutation for more than just part tricks. It was invigorating. That, combined wiht her education, made her feel like she could make a difference in the world for once. It was all she wanted to do.

The rest of the day had been normal. When they'd met up for dinner Rahne's opinion of Doug had changed. He seemed to smell fine now and, despite his crime of being a boy, was nice. Lorna was relieved that Rahne had made a friend. She hadn't made a connection herself, but she was glad that Rahne had.

Feeling restless she got up. Her eyes wandered to the pillow where her mother's journal was but she decided against it at the last moment. She wanted to save it; not just read it all at once. It was all she had left of her mother now really. Instead Lorna walked to the window and looked out.

Beneath her was the school's pool, completely abandoned for the moment. She looked at it with circumspection before she turned around. Opening her dresser she rifled around for her bathing suit. Lorna put it on and threw a bathrobe around her. A little bit of undisturbed swimming wouldn't hurt her. If anything it would be a release of tension.

She padded down the silent hallways. When she got to the pool she took off her bathrobe and put it on a chair. Climbing down the ladder she slipped into the water. It was freezing but it didn't bother her. It felt beautiful and calming against her skin. In the dark she swam to the far end of the pool and sank into the water. Everything was peaceful and silent.

Then the door opened. In the dark she didn't see who it was, but it looked like three figures. Not wanting to get into trouble she shrank back.

"This isn't fair," one said, the voice masculine.

"Totally fair," the other argued.

"You did say, and I quote, 'I'm so confident they'll win I'll jump in the pool naked if they lose'," a voice she recognized as Hank rumbled, "And they lost. You have no idea about football teams, do you Alex?"

Words that would have announced her presence died in her mouth out of pure shock. Lorna felt her face go red. Uncomfortably she sank further down in the water until it was almost touching her eyes. She sincerely hoped that whoever this was chose to keep his clothes on. They couldn't see her, and weren't anywhere near her but she didn't relish the idea of sharing the pool with a naked boy.

"Yes, but I wasn't serious! And I didn't say when!" argued Alex

"Well we're saying it," Hank said.

"You know, maybe we are being a little mean," the second voice said.

"Thank you Sean!"

"But then again we did let him keep his swim trunks on," snickered Sean.

"Oh, nearly forgot about that," said Hank.

"You two are enjoying this way too much," Alex snapped, "And those swim trunks? They have snuggly ducklings on them. They're for children!"

"We got 'em in mens. Or would you prefer to go commando?" asked Hank, "The water can get really cold this time of the year."

"Let's not be hasty," Alex said, "But I'm diving from the deep end. I don't want to catch hypothermia **and **break my legs."

Panic flooded her mind; she was in the deep end. There was no reason for her to feel so uncomfortable she was sure. If there was a rule against using the pool so late at night then they were breaking it too and were unlikely to report her. However, she'd been hiding for too long to reveal that she was there and have things not to be awkward. And how does one announce themselves to people like that?

Either way she had to move. The unlucky boy was heading towards where she was. Silently she started to paddle away.

"I'll get the lights," said Hank, "Don't want you to hurt yourself."

"Oh hardy har har," snorted Alex.

Not the lights. Lorna saw Hank reach for them and she ducked under water. If she didn't want anyone to see her then it was her only choice. Even then it might not work. There were muffled noises around her and she tilted her head up. Suddenly there was a loud splash and the water began churning around her. The lights turned on and she found herself looking at a pair of blue eyes.

* * *

><p>"Geronimo!"<p>

Alex plunged into the water. The cold air stung and he cursed the day that he had met Hank and Sean. Bets with embarrassing outcomes were all very good when he wasn't the one who lost them. He had his eyes closed at first, but opened them to orient himself. As soon as he opened his eyes he had only one thought;

_Mermaid. _

The girl at the bottom of the pool had a halo of green hair floating around her, spread out by the bubbles from his dive. Her lips were parted slightly in surprise and her eyes had widened. They were the same color as her hair, framed by thick dark eyelashes. With the pool lights shining behind her she looked ethereal, like something out of a fairytale.

His next thought, which came immediately after the first one was;

_Idiot, she's not a mermaid. Water-based mutant, obviously. _

This was followed by his rather urgent need for air. His lungs were burning, as were his eyes from the chlorine. With some difficulty pushed himself up to the surface. Alex gasped when he reached the surface. A splash from further down made him turn. He was just in time to see a girl with hip-length green hair start climbing up the pool ladder.

It was only then that it occurred to him that he'd managed to act like a complete idiot when there was a rather pretty girl in the vicinity. Not only that but he'd managed to stare at her while they were under chlorine. While such situations didn't bother him with most girls, said girls didn't generally try to flee the area afterwards.

Also, there was one more thing that he knew to be concerned about. Knowing the rumor mill that the school generally operated, everyone would be under the impression by that time tomorrow that he owned a pair of snuggly duckling bathing trunks. It was the grand high poobah of all embarrassing image shatterers.

She had to be stopped.

"Hey!" he called, splashing over to the ladder.

The mermaid girl didn't stop, just grabbed a nearby bathrobe and pulled it around her shoulders. She did all of this while practically running towards the entrance to the school. Alex got out of the pool and hurried after her. Whoever the girl was she was fast. He was having difficulty catching up to her, not to mention Hank and Sean were staring at both of them with extreme confusion.

Alex finally caught up with her in the hallway. He managed to get a step in front of her. She stepped back so she wouldn't run into his bare chest. It was only then that he noticed two things. One, her face was furiously red and her hands were covering her face. Second; he was shirtless and dripping. Not the best first impression.

"Um, sorry about that if I startled you or something…"

Her eyebrows shot up.

"It was part of a bet-"

"I heard," she said, "At least your friends let you wear something."

Her tone was slightly derisive. Alex winced.

"Yeah, about that," he said, "Um…"

A rather uncomfortable and tight smile crossed his face. Suddenly, for the first time in a long time, he had no idea what to say to a girl. God, he was turning into Sean.

"Do you know the etiquette for apologizing after nearly jumping on a girl in a pool, because I'm improvising right now," he said.

"I can tell," she said, lowering her hands, "But, in your defense, you didn't exactly know I was there, so…no harm done."

She smiled and, even though her hair was no longer billowing around her and there were no lights, there was still something ethereal about her.

"I'm Alex Summers," he said, holding out a hand.

The smile widened and she took his hand.

"Lorna Dane," she said.

So now he had a name to go with the face. He gave her another smile as Hank and Sean walked in. They took in the scene with some confusion.

"Hi Hank," Lorna said.

"You know her?" asked Alex.

The subtext was 'And you didn't introduce me?'. Hank picked up on it and rolled his eyes.

"She got in day before yesterday. Remember when the housekeeper went out?"

"Oh," he said, "Well, in that case, welcome to Xavier's school for Gifted Youngsters."

"I didn't know the welcoming committee appeared in duckling bathing suits," Lorna said.

"Yeah, well, we made an exception for you," Alex replied.

"I'm flattered, I think," said Lorna.

Alex winked at her. There was something delightful about the way her eyebrows shot up.

"Time out," said Sean, "We should get out of the halls. I don't want to get caught. I've got plans for tomorrow."

He opened his mouth to tell Sean to stuff it when a voice said;

"Too late."

There was a collective groan. Alex turned around to see Charles pushing his wheelchair down the hall, his eyes narrowed.

"When I get up to put David back to sleep I don't like taking detours downstairs to put delinquents back to bed. I hope you didn't have any plans for tomorrow afternoon," he said.

"Hey, you're supposed to be nice," frowned Sean.

"Not at this hour," he said dryly, "Anyway, Ms. Dane, I'll make an exception for you since this is your first day. The rest of you have detention tomorrow with Mrs. Jackson. Now all of you back to bed."

There was another groan. They turned around and started heading for the staircase.

"And Alex?" called Charles.

"Yeah?" he said.

He made a face.

"Those swim trunks look ridiculous."


	13. Chapter 13

"So, how are Lorna and Rahne settling in?" asked Charles.

His wife just smiled and leaned against the window frame. The two girls had been in the school for nearly two weeks now and he felt that it was time to discuss their status. Since he hadn't had to see either of them in his office he felt that they had done well. He knew enough that there had been no incidents other than the pool, but neither of them were in his advanced classes and thus he didn't have too much contact with them.

In his lap David squirmed; evidently not liking to be kept still for long periods of time. He was going to be a real terror once he learned to walk.

"Rahne is having some difficulty with her schoolwork," said Moira, "She's undergoing tutoring for most of her subjects, although she seems to be an avid reader. She also has an in-class aide in the form of Doug."

"How's that working?"

"Pretty good. Still a little early to tell," Moira replied, "But she seems to be getting on well with Doug and has a few friends."

"And Lorna?"

He had more contact with her than with Rahne. While Rahne was in a lower-level class for power manipulation Lorna was making her way into a more advanced one. Alex had been in that class but Charles had managed to have a word about Lorna's mutation before she displayed it. He had raised his eyebrows but said nothing of it. Charles had the feeling that it was becoming a taboo subject to mention the connection they were all thinking.

Sometimes he caught Lorna doing dexterity exercises with coins. She said her mother had recommended them for her. Many had been the time that he struggled to keep a straight face as she guided coins through her fingers gracefully. be

Charles knew that those were exercises that surgeons did while training for their work. Susanna, being a nurse, would of course have seen it. So it was logical that she would have passed such information on to her daughter. Nonetheless it made him uneasy, watching her do that. The memories it brought up were rather painful.

True to his word he had shared his feelings with his wife. There wasn't much she could do, but it did feel good to have someone he could talk to.

"Is she fitting in you mean?" asked Moira.

He nodded.

"Look out the window," she laughed.

Charles wheeled up and gazed out of the window. On the field he saw Lorna sitting cross-legged under a tree. Alex sat next to her with his books, commenting on something. If he looked hard he could see Scott and Rahne playing some sort of game of tag with Doug not too far away. He smiled.

"Well well," he said, "Are they dating or…friends?"

"Friends thus far," said Moira, "Not sure how long that's going to last. It is Alex we're talking about here."

"Alas."

A chubby hand reached up and pulled on his hair. It was a hard yank and Charles had to grit his teeth from the pain it caused.

"Ow," Charles said, trying to pry his son's hand away, "Time to let go; Daddy needs his hair now."

With great difficulty he managed to make his son let go.

"Can't take your eyes off him, can you?" asked Moira, going over and picking David up.

"It's like trying ot keep a legion of soldiers from storming a castle," he grumbled, "You think they've quit but there's everywhere…"

"You have the most interesting similes," she said, "Just wait until he gets old enough to understand them."

"They are rather spectacular," Charles said, "But if we must wait for that then I'm going to have to wait a very long time indeed."

He paused before taking a breath.

"Raven always said if I had kids they'd never be able to understand me," he said, "I'm starting to wonder if she was right."

Now it was Moira's turn to pause. She turned away from the window and walked next to him.

"I'm sorry she hasn't been able to see David," Moira said tentatively.

Truthfully he knew Moira didn't mind that their old terrorist friends hadn't had any interaction with their child. He knew her well enough to know that. However, he appreciated that she was treating the matter with delicacy. Moira knew how much he missed his sister, even if said sister had run off with his best friend and later kidnapped her.

The ties of affection and family weren't something that could just be cut instantly. He still thought of Raven as his sister and Erik as his friend, although in a fondly distant way. Of all the things that had happened one of the ones he regretted the most was that Raven hadn't been able to see her nephew. Being able to brag to his friend about having a wonderful son might have been nice too, but Raven was his **sister**.

When he was younger it had never occurred to him that their paths would part. Anytime that Charles had thought of his wedding or having a family, though those times had been few, he always pictured Raven nearby. Or, if she hadn't necessarily been in the picture, he'd always known that she was there. Perhaps taking her for granted had been one of the things that had driven her away, but still. It would have been nice for her to have been there for this.

"Well sweetheart," he said, directing his gaze to his wife and child, "Life does lead us to strange places sometimes." 

* * *

><p>It was a simple matter of counting. The only reason it was so difficult for her at the moment was because the answer dictated so much. Mystique looked at herself in the mirror and breathed deeply. Her yellow eyes stared back and for the first time in years she felt small and helpless.<p>

Her hand touched her stomach gingerly. Part of her didn't know how she could have failed to notice sooner. It had been bothering her for a long time. She had gotten sick in the mornings, certain smells had been getting to her, classic symptoms. While she wasn't an expert she knew enough about biology to know **that.**

However, she was very good at lying to herself. She'd decided that she just had some sort of flu. Mystique had taken medicine for the nausea and hidden her symptoms from the rest of the Brotherhood. Sickness, unless it was severe, would probably be scoffed at. Mystique would just have to work through it.

Only Azazel had noticed that she was sick. It irked her that he'd noticed and not Erik. Mystique started to wonder if he noticed anything about her at all.

"Something wrong Raisa?" he'd asked one night.

He was starting to use the pet name in more casual conversation. He didn't care if she heard it now.

"I'm fine," she'd said irritably, "Just a flu."

His expression had become strange then and he'd given that same polite smile. Azazel was always at his most terrifying when he did that.

"Da," he said, "I'm sure."

That night had left her acutely uncomfortable. It was a flu and nothing more. Something she had eaten was causing her this stomach upset. The underlying nausea was making it difficult for her to cut meat, why she retched inwardly every time the blood of her victims filled the air. That was all that it was; a flu.

Then the signs became more and more recognizable. With a growing feeling of dread she had finally given in and gone to the doctor that morning. She'd left in her favorite 'blonde hair and blue eyes' get up. Then, once she was some distance away and sure that no one was following her, she'd used a completely new disguise.

This was something she didn't want anyone at all knowing about. If she was wrong then it would make her look silly. If she was right then it didn't bear thinking about how it would go down. And when the doctor had confirmed her pregnancy she was doubly glad that she had taken so many precautions.

Being pregnant was a problem in and of itself. Mystique would have been scared under normal circumstances; she was unmarried and had no family or close friends she could turn to for support. If Charles was there things would be different; she would have someone trustworthy to talk to. However, she forbade herself from thinking that way. What was done was done.

Yet, Mystique wasn't just unmarried and without anyone close. For her it was far worse. Although she'd found comfort in Azazel's arms for nearly a year she was still being intimate with Erik. With everyone coming and going at different times Mystique didn't know who the father was.

In the best case scenario the father would be Erik. She'd be able to tell him and she had a feeling he'd be receptive. He might like the idea of having brought more mutants in the world even if he didn't want to be a father. That was something that could easily be handled. They could deal with it from there.

If it was Azazel's then she had no idea how he'd react or what he'd do. How would being a father fit into his plans? Would he care at all, get angry or be annoyed? And so many other things would happen. Her relationship with Erik would effectively be over to start with. That would probably be the least of her worries though.

Of course she had to figure out whose it was first. The doctor had given her a date of conception, roughly three weeks ago. She breathed in and started trying to remember missions and dates. Erik had been away around that time but she wasn't sure when. There was still a good chance that the child was his. Closing her eyes she started counting back calendar dates. As she did so a knot formed in her stomach.

It was then she realized that Erik had been gone that entire week on a mission to Brazil. He'd even been gone for some of the next week and the week before. He'd brushed her off and she'd been feeling particularly lonely so she'd gone to her normal source of comfort. She touched her stomach again and opened her eyes. For a minute she stared at her reflection. Then her lip trembled and she started to cry. It wasn't Erik's. It was Azazel's.


	14. Chapter 14

There were many words that Lorna could use to describe Alex Summers. Trouble was one. Apparently the detention he'd gotten the night she met him wasn't the first. He had that bad boy attitude about him that suggested he was into wearing sleveless shirts, leather jackets, and dark sunglasses while riding a motorcycle. She had yet to see the sunglasses or the jacket, but already she had proof of his vendetta against sleeves. And she'd seen the motorcycle in the school garage.

Puzzling was another one. Despite his attitude his little brother and half the students at the school seemed to worship him. Alex and his two friends were the toast of their class and involved in several committees. There was something about him that inspired confidence. Even though she couldn't see the reason for it she felt it too.

Fun was a good one too. There was something exciting about him. He was in a position of authority but wasn't against some good-natured fun. Around the school there was a saying that at the end of every prank was Alex Summers. She guessed that was where his nickname, 'Havok' came from. Lorna hadn't heard it very often though; only from his two friends a few times.

Oh, and there was her all-time favorite, flirtatious. He had made it very clear that he was interested in her as more than a friend. And, despite his past as a criminal and his inconsistencies, she was interested too. Alex wasn't some sort of 'All-American boy' but he was still a good person. She was sure of that.

However, the one word she had never expected to hear used in relation to him was the one that Rahne's friend Doug had used a week beforehand.

"Pardon?" she asked.

Doug frowned at her.

"I said he's a hero," he said, "Really."

Her eyes slid over to where Alex had made a bet with a fellow classmate how many cartons of milk he could drink in a minute.

"What makes you say that?" asked Lorna.

He leaned forward over the table and lowered his voice.

"Mrs. Xavier got kidnapped once," he said.

Her eyebrows shot up. Next to her Rahne's ears became wolf ones as she leaned in.

"Yeah," nodded Doug, "Some real creepy people too. I was there and there was a lot of stuff crashing. And when I got back to the school and told them about it…"

Doug paused and looked around.

"Alex, Hank, and Sean gave the Professor this look and he said he'd take care of it. They thought I was upstairs but I snuck down later and saw them in these weird outfits," he said, "And they got into a plane. And a few hours later she was injured, but she was back. They're heroes."

He sank back. Rahne's ears returned to normal and she frowned.

"No one mentioned that in the tour," she said.

"Of course they can't," Doug said, "They'd get into trouble with the authorities. But I've seen them do it other times. And they go down a lot for 'extra training'."

Lorna bit her lip thoughtfully. She shot a look at Alex, who had just won and was being cheered by bystanders.

"You sure about that?" she asked.

"Of course I am," said Doug.

"I think you're making it up," frowned Rahne.

"Am not!"

After that it had devolved into childish bickering. For the past few days Lorna couldn't get what Doug had said out of her head. Was it possible there was some sort of secret organization in the school fighting crime? Obviously, if there was one, then the Professor would have to be involved in it. By proxy that meant that Moira was in on it too.

This was, of course, if there really was one. She only had the word of one of Rahne's friends on it. Yet, if there was one, then why were Hank, Alex, and Sean the only ones in it? Wouldn't the other students want to get involved? Maybe they did and there was some sort of code to get in.

If there was then she wanted to learn it. Maybe it was her newfound freedom that made her want to be a hero. She'd heard enough from her classes to learn that she could be a force for change the world. Rose had told her that mutants were humanity's next step. Lorna made the logical assumption that that meant that they should take responsibility for the world.

Or maybe it was all those stories she heard about her family. Her grandfather had attended to dying soldiers along with her mother, who'd only been fourteen. From the way the story was going it looked like her father had been a soldier of some sort. Why should Lorna be the only one in her family not to stand up for what she believed in? Why shouldn't she try to make a difference?

Over the past few days she'd made some discreet inquiries about the so called 'heroes'. She hadn't outright asked about it but she had danced around the subject. All she managed to learn was that those three were Charles' very first students. That would explain why they would be the only ones involved to a degree, but it supported very little evidence.

To her it seemed like what Doug had seen was probably a one-time situation, if that. Alright, the plane sounded weird. However, it probably wasn't a plane at all. Who could keep a plane at the school? Doug was young and impressionable after all. She found herself feeling disappointed and silly for believing him in the first place.

That was why she had been practicing her dance moves in her old ballet uniform. It calmed her down and helped her think. Unfortunately the only room big enough for it was one of the common rooms. She had to do it after curfew because generally the room was otherwise occupied.

Sighing she sunk into one of her chairs and adjusted her toe shoes. Despite her former dislike of her hair she liked green. That was why her shoes, leotard, headband, and tights were green. There was a black stripe running up her tights and a few black prints on the leotard but otherwise it was all green. With her hair's recent liberation she thought she looked a little nymphy in it.

Lorna got up again and stretched. With a small jump she did a handstand, flipping it into a cartwheel. She went until she got to the front of the room, her chin pointed to the ceiling and her arms raised. There was no audience to applaud, but she didn't mind. It was better without people making a big fuss around her. She'd never been one for the limelight.

That was when she heard footsteps down the hall.

"We need to do this at more reasonable hours."

She shut the lights off and flattened herself against the wall. The school was a good place and she didn't want to get a reputation for breaking the rules.

"Yeah, whatever Alex."

She frowned. It was them again? Rolling her eyes she went to turn the light back on.

"You know the need for secrecy," said Hank, "Besides, you know how the Professor feels about this. And weren't you the one who pushed for 'boy's only' training sessions?"

That stopped her. She let her hand hover over the light switch, frozen.

"Yeah, whatever. Come on, let's get going."

The three of them walked past. Biting her lip she slipped out of the room and hurried after them. She had to know. Her footfalls were muffled by her toe shoes. Once she was nearly caught when Hank turned around but she hid quickly. He turned back to the wall and slid a panel away. Lorna's breath caught. A keypad was underneath the panel and he jotted some numbers in. Another panel in the adjacent wall slid away to reveal a compartment.

The boys went inside and the doors started to close. Seeing her opportunity vanish Lorna ran forward and slipped in between the sliding door and the wall. Her momentum continued to propel her forward though. In the dark she was unable to stop, rocketing her into Alex's back. He fell onto the ground and Lorna crashed onto the floor.

Alex scrambled to his feet and his chest plate glowed with red light. He couldn't see her and her identifying words got stuck in the face of the threat. As the light increased she threw out her arm, sending him hurtling against the wall. Lorna winced; she hadn't meant to do it that hard. His chestplate must have had more metal in it than she'd htought.

Seconds later a wordless shriek filled the air. Lorna covered her ears and collapsed to the floor. Her head hit a metal chair as she did so. Again she turned her hand and sent the chair in the direction of the noise. There was a crash and the noise stopped.

"Hey guys-!" she tried.

Everything was going too fast for explanations though. Before she knew it a hand went for her wrist. She wasn't sure whose it was and she shoved her palm out. It hit something fleshy, she supposed an eye or a cheekbone. There was a disgruntled noise and she shoved herself back. A table toppled behind her. She pirouetted neatly to avoid crashing to the floor herself.

Two strong arms wrapped around her waist. They lifted her into the air and she felt the air rush out of her arms. She started struggling but she wasn't strong enough to break free. Whoever was holding her was in pain, certainly, but he wasn't letting go. Lorna tried to feel the air for metal but her oxygen starved brain didn't quite commute the command.

Then the lights went on.

"Lorna?" said Alex from teh floor, his eyes big.

She looked around, swallowing hard. The arms around her dropped her like she was a hot potato and she saw Hank. However, there were other things to see. Everything around her was metallic and shiny. Several work tables had been set up. Some had plans and complicated diagrams. In the corner an open closet showed yellow and blue jumpsuits with 'X's emblazoned on them. Above it all towered a silver plane. So Doug wasn't lying.

"I think it's time to call the Professor," said Sean, cradling half of his face.

Hank nodded and pressed a button on the side of the wall. Feeling awkward Lorna walked over and held out her hand to Alex. He took it, staring at her.

"What are you doing here?" he asked as she helped him up.

Lorna dipped her head.

"Investigating?" she ventured.

Alex continued to look at her, only his gaze was different. He looked at her like she was something rare and exotic. Lorna had to fight the urge to blush.

"And now that you're here?" he asked.

Her shoulders shrugged.

"Don't know quite yet."

Alex smirked and his gaze lowered before meeting hers.

"Might I say that you look great in whatever you're wearing?" he said.

"God, Alex, stop flirting!" Sean moaned, "This is serious!"

The blush solidified and she let go of his hand. Luckily for her the doors opened and Charles came in, pushed by Moira. Both were in their pajamas and looked tired.

"Once again I find myself awake to handle something you three have done," Charles said as Moira pushed him in, "And you know I'm not my best at this time and-good grief."

He stared at Lorna. She swallowed as his eyes roved from her to the disorderly room.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here Ms. Dane," he said, "And I'm horrified to ask this, I truly am, but what happened?"

She swallowed.

"I was practicing ballet."

"That explains the outfit," said Charles, holding up one finger.

"And and I saw them in the hallway and followed them," said Lorna, "And it was dark and no one could see. So I ran into Alex. He turned to attack me, he was wearing metal, and it kind of spiraled out of control."

Lorna gestured around her. Charles sighed and held up two more fingers.

"And that explains the chaos and the injuries. Go back upstairs Ms. Dane," he said, "Detention is in order I suppose and you should-"

"-keep silent about your secret superhero club?" she demanded.

His eyebrows shot up. Lorna wished she hadn't said anything, but she felt the opportunity slipping away from her again. She couldn't allow that.

"I don't want detention Professor," she said boldly, "I want in."

Dead silence blanketed the room.

"Pardon?" asked Charles.

"I want to make a difference," she said, putting her hands on her hips, "and I know I'm untrained and new at casually using my powers, and it was only in the dark, but I held my own against these three for a while. And that was in my ballet outfit."

She heard a few coughs and shufflings from behind her.

"She is fast," Hank said tentatively.

"Lorna does put up quite a fight," Alex said, wincing, "And she did kick us around to be fair. We could use more people."

"Yeah, but we're the X-**men**, not the X-**girls**," said Sean irritably, still rubbing the bruised side of his face, "I know you like her but she's still a-"

"Still a what?" demanded Lorna, whirling on Sean and trying not to think about what he said to Alex.

"Yes, a what?" asked Moira.

Sean's facial expression went from annoyed to terrified.

"Um-"

"As I recall, the Civil Rights Act was passed last year," said Moira, "Under that act Title II officially bans sex-based discrimination."

Charles turned his head and stared at his wife. She rolled her eyes.

"I was a CIA agent. I keep track of these things, **minutely**," she said, "And as I recall I was involved in using that CIA training to help train you in hand-to-hand, which apparently you weren't listening to."

Sean swallowed and looked down. Lorna saw her cause wasn't hopeless and jumped in.

"All I'm asking for is a chance," she said, "I just want an opportunity to show what I can do."

With her heart in her throat she watched Charles' torn expression. Moira's hand went to his shoulder and she looked at him with sympathy. Her heart dropped. This was like her first day there when they'd looked at her uncertainty in the office. Then he sighed and gave her a small smile. Hope rose in her chest.

"Well, we're all about giving opportunities here," he said, "This is a school after all."

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_I tried to make Lorna's ballerina outfit look a little like her original costume. Seriously, it's like they decided she had green hair, so let's give her green everything else. It could also be, in theory, be a sign of her acceptance of the most visible sign of her mutation. Who knows?_


	15. Chapter 15

Emma Frost had wondered what it was about his third daughter that Jason had hated so much. It couldn't be that she wasn't a boy; he had seemed pleased to have his first two daughters. It couldn't even be that she apparently didn't have his power; he was always looking for fresh talent to incorporate into his circles.

When she finally met Megan she understood and it sickened her. Emma had been introduced to Jason's first two daughters at a few Hellfire events. Martinique, his eldest daughter, had flowing chestnut hair. Her skin was clear and perfect. She was, in short, beautiful. Even if she was a skank by all decent standards there was nothing wrong with her physically.

The only real difference between Martinique and Regan was their hair color. Regan was blonde. They tended to dress alike, to the horror of the fashion world, so they didn't really stand out. They were also each equally nasty. And when they smiled? It was like looking at two girl versions of Jason with different hair.

Megan looked nothing like her father or sisters. She didn't even look like she was the same species as them. Her eyes were twice as big as a normal human's, shiny and black with only a speck of white in the middle showing. Megan's features, including her ears, were pointed and elfish. Instead of having any normal hair color Megan's was a bubblegum pink.

All of this paled in comparison to the rainbow colored, translucent wings that grew out of her back. The girl looked like a pixie. There was nothing about her that could pass for normal on the street. If she was lucky she could strap down her wings and pretend like she was in a theater troupe. If, of course, she was lucky.

The fact that Megan had been born to Jason Wyngarde showed that she wasn't lucky at all though. She had none of her father's powers, none of his looks. Jason loved his oldest daughters because they were reflections of himself. Megan shared nothing in common with him and never could. Even if she grew up to be just as nasty as him she would still look like a character out of a fantasy book. It wasn't the image that Jason wanted to portray.

So it was a given that he would take out his frustrations on her. How could he produce anything less than perfect? If Megan wasn't perfect then it was her own fault. The hurt and fear in the small girl's eyes confirmed Emma's theory. Hurt like that wasn't usually emitted to that level when a child met a stranger for the first time.

"My name is Emma Frost, I work with your father," Emma said.

Megan gave what looked like a curtsey. Cute.

"Megan Gwyn," she said.

Emma frowned.

"Your father's last name is Wyngarde," she said.

"He…said I should use mother's last name," said Megan.

She nodded. Of course he wouldn't want her to be linked to him. If she had a different last name then it erected a barrier of separation. However, Emma didn't have time to play pity party no matter how frightened the little girl was. She was there for business, to see if she would take Megan on as her page and apprentice.

"Alright," she said, "can you fly?"

Megan nodded, still careful.

"Father said that I shouldn't too much, but I can," she said.

"I see," Emma said, "Do you have heightened hearing? Your ears are certainly big enough for it."

The words left her lips before she could stop them. Megan's eyes welled with tears but she didn't cry.

"No ma'am," whispered Megan.

Her hurt was littered all over her face. Although Emma regretted talking to her like she had she couldn't repress a sigh of irritation.

"Listen to me," she said, "Megan, do you know why I'm here?"

Megan clasped her hands together.

"Father said you might want to train me," said Megan.

"Correct," said Emma, "but no matter how this turns out I want to give you some advice; don't let people see you."

Big black eyes looked at her in confusion.

"Let other people see what** you** want them to see," she clarified, "And that part of you shouldn't give a damn what other people think. They can't hurt you, can't get at you if you only show them one side of yourself. That part's you but it isn't really you. The real you can't be touched. You'll always be safe."

She knew it worked; it had gotten her to where she was today. Until recently she had thought it was just being thick-skinned, but now she thought of it as her 'White Queen persona'. The White Queen was the epitome of perfection. She had always been loved, she had always been wealthy, she had always been in control. Everything that came to her came to her was because she was entitled to it. The world owed her just because she existed.

This was the image that Emma wanted to portray. It had gotten her a seat of power beyond anything she had ever dreamed of. Enemies fell at her feet just because her reputation had reached them before she had. No one dared show her any disrespect. She was desired and feared by all.

Emma had come a long way from being the daughter who couldn't please her father no matter what while her mother dosed herself with opium in the background. After all, the White Queen had no parents. She didn't have backstabbing sisters either, something Emma was eternally grateful about.

The White Queen had never been rejected. She had never been alone. A man she loved had never severed contact with her because of her powers. She'd never been in pain or wished more than anything for someone, **anyone **to find value in her. It was the perfect facade.

More people did it then they realized. There were different faces they assumed when they were at work or when they were at home. Her job was the White Queen and it was a twenty-four seven operation. If she had to use it for the rest of her life then she would. At least her life would be longer that way.

To her it had first happened when she saw Shaw kill someone. He'd taken a localized explosion and forced it down the man's throat. She learned later it was his favorite method of execution. He had burned from the inside and then exploded, filling the air with the smell of scorched flesh and the sound of his screams.

At that point Shaw had shown her how she could escape from her life. Admittedly she was using him, but she still had to prove herself as valuable at that point. So, although she had wanted to retch and gag, she had stood perfectly still. The face she had to show was of one who didn't care. And she'd showed it, and she'd gone far.

Why she'd shared that piece of information with Megan was beyond her. The girl wouldn't understand it.

"I think I get it," said Megan.

"You're too young," Emma said disdainfully.

"No," Megan said, "It's like a shield around yourself. And if they can't get through it, they can't hurt you. So it's like they're calling someone else those names."

Emma raised her eyebrow.

"Perhaps you do understand," she said.

It went without saying that Emma Frost wanted to make time for the girl. She might have little empathy for other people but there was a soft spot in her for abused children, especially if they were girls. And Megan seemed clever too. Her father might only be calling her stupid because he hated her for how she looked.

At the same time there was no advantage to it. Emma already had Jason's 'friendship' and she wouldn't lose it by refusing him if she did it correctly. If she took her in without some clear advantage to herself then she would look like someone who did favors without expecting something in return. Soon they would think she was weak, and the White Queen couldn't be seen as weak.

"Isn't that a sad way to live though?" asked Megan, "Doesn't it make you lonely?"

She smiled; ah, the naivety of children.

"It ensures that you **do **live," Emma said, "So it's fine."

Megan frowned. She might have said something else but Jason came in. He glanced at Megan and she scurried from the room. Jason sat beside her.

"So?" he asked.

"She shows potential. It's buried, but it's there," said Emma, "but unfortunately my answer to your request is no. You understand how busy of a schedule I have."

Jason nodded. He looked at the door from which his daughter had exited from with an irritated expression.

"But," said Emma, "I would make time if Megan's father became Black King."

Suddenly he looked confident. She wondered if it was his trademark arrogance or if he really could go through with his plan.

"Then you'll be having Megan as your page rather soon."

"Goodness," laughed Emma, "I hope your plan is half as good as you seem to think it is. You know the repercussions if it's discovered or you fail."

The last time a would-be-club-climber had failed to seize a seat the repercussions had been swift. The White Cardinal, who had been the offended party, had killed them. Then they had gone through and destroyed every single adherent that they'd had. It was a tradition deeply rooted in the Hellfire Club. It was like the sweeping of a family that had tried to seize the throne in the feudal ages.

"I'd even have to join in, show how much I disapprove of such betrayal," she said.

"I have everything covered. The only one besides my daughters who know of it are you, and it's no threat to your power so you won't tell," he said, "And yes, I'm aware. But I can assure you that I won't fail."


	16. Chapter 16

Having a new member on the team was odd. Alex had spent so long fighting alongside Hank and Sean that he found he knew what they'd do before they did it. He'd only fought Lorna once, in the dark, if that could be counted. So so much of what she did was a surprise, and he didn't just mean as a fighting style.

For one thing she was graceful. Gymnastics and dance had taught her balance and agility. However, getting that into a coherent fighting style left many of them puzzled. Where they would kick she would jump or spin. Obviously her body size was something of a disadvantage but she had stamina. She could go toe-to-toe with them for a while despite her status as a rookie. As a fighter Alex found her remarkable. As a teenager he found her sexy.

Lorna hadn't won against them again but she was willing to work on her fighting style and her powers. Her determination obviously impressed Charles. Alex wondered if she impressed him just as much as it scared him. He had to admit that it was creepy when he saw Charles explaining her powers to her like he'd explained them to Erik. Sometimes when they fought and metal moved he almost thought Erik was in the room with them. The others picked up on it too, but no one had breathed a word to Lorna.

When he looked at her though, all of the similarities disappeared. Unlike Erik her face never seemed to bear any suspicion. Her stance was never tense except in a fight. There was something open about her. And Erik's eyes had held such rage. With Lorna he saw only determination.

They had told her about the Brotherhood. It had been a quick overview. None of them felt like going into too much detail about their betrayal at the hands of their friends. He was sure that they'd tell her more about it later. For now she knew all she needed to know; they fought for coexistence while the Brotherhood fought for takeover.

Which brought things to their first mission with her. They'd gotten intelligence that the Brotherhood had captured a CIA armory a few hours ago. The weapons storage were being transferred within hours to be used for who knew what. All of the SWAT teams that had tried to get in had been blocked by high winds and a barrage of mutant guards.

A few weeks ago Hank had measured Lorna for a jumpsuit, with Alex paying attention to her measurements. Now she sat across from him in the Blackbird, wearing it and looking out of the front window excitedly. Only while watching her did he remember that they'd forgotten the most important thing.

"What's your codename?" he asked.

She blinked.

"Sorry, what?"

"Oh God," moaned Hank from the pilot seat, "You're not going to continue that dumb tradition, are you?"

"What tradition?" demanded Lorna.

"When we first met we gave each other codenames," Sean said, "We thought it was James Bond-y."

He smiled at her apologetically.

"Hank's right. It's kind of stupid-"

"It's awesome!" insisted Alex, shocked, "Go on, tell her your codename. Go on."

Sean sighed.

"My codename's Banshee," he said, "Because, you know. Obvious."

"Yeah, I get it. Suits you," said Lorna, amused, "And what's yours Hank?"

Hank snorted and looked over his shoulder.

"Beast, again for obvious reasons."

"Holy shit do you guys know how to pick codenames. If I heard someone calling for someone codenamed Beast on a radio I'd wet my pants," Lorna said, starting to smile.

From his position Hank snorted again, but it wasn't as hostile as the first time.

"And you Alex?" she asked.

He straightened in his seat.

"Havok," he said.

She tilted her head.

"Not…bad I guess. Explains a lot really."

Sean stifled laughter. Alex felt like smacking him.

"So what's yours going to be?" he asked.

She tilted her head and thought for a moment. Her smile became softer.

"How about Polaris?" Lorna asked.

"Like the north star Polaris?" Sean said.

"Exactly," she said, "Used to guide sailors. And it's also the magnetic north."

"Nice one," said Alex.

He grinned at her. From the front Hank started the descent. They weren't experiencing any turbulence since they hadn't been noticed. He had to hand it to Hank for his stealth cloaking.

"Get ready to drop in five," he said, "You all know your target points right?"

"The north compound," said Sean, "You'll rendezvous with me in ten after I secure the area. And then we'll go to the center."

"Lorna and I'll drop in the south compound and secure it. Then we rendezvous with you guys in fifteen. The plane'll be on the roof," said Alex, "By then the SWAT teams which have been trying to get in all day will be there and we'll need to get the hell out."

"And because of the winds watch out for-"

"Riptide," finished Alex, "We got it, okay?"

"Fine, whatever," sighed Hank, "You two are up."

They unbuckled and got up. This was the only part of the plan he was nervous about.

"You got this, right?" he asked.

"Don't sweat it," laughed Lorna, "Grab my hand."

Alex gripped her hand tightly. The bottom of the plane opened up and together they jumped out. For a minute he felt himself flying. Then he was being pulled through the air with an alarming speed. Soon he was jerked back upwards. He gazed up at Lorna who grinned down at him.

"I'm really glad we found out about that whole flying thing," he said.

"Yeah. The Professor just asked me to try it one day. Don't know why he thought it would work," she said, "He says I can manipulate the earth's magnetic field or something."

Inwardly he winced. He knew **exactly** why Professor had thought it would work.

"Good to have another X-man who flies," he said, "Sean's always screaming and I'm afraid he's going to burst my eardrums one day."

"Get some headphones."

"I don't need to now," he answered.

Lorna laughed and set him down on the roof. They walked over to the door that led downstairs. It was locked but Alex let out a blast from his chest plate. The door collapsed inwards and fell down the stairs. It clattered loudly and the two of them hurried down after it. All of the noise was going to draw attention and they needed to move.

Alex ran in front of her. He slid to a halt before they went into a corridor.

"See anyone?" Lorna asked.

"Nope," he said, pointing to the left, "Let's go."

They took off down the right. It was then that they came upon the first of the guards the Brotherhood set up. Alex blasted the first one with his chest plate. Another one took out a gun which Lorna whipped out of his hand. She jerked her hand and the gun crashed into the man's head, knocking him out.

A few more came around the corridor. With a large blast Alex managed to take out three of them. The others were unfortunately wearing metal clips. They slammed into the wall as they barreled on. Alex checked his watch. It looked like they were making really good time. He turned to make a comment about how good of a team they made when a side door opened.

A blast of cold air sent him into the wall. It felt like the flesh was being ripped from his bones. Lorna jumped forward but got pushed by the winds as well. She cried out as she hit the wall and Alex realized that this was her first time getting injured in battle. It only served him to make him angrier. The air kept him pinned though. He looked up to see Riptide grinning at them.

"The 'X-men' again?" he asked, looking at both of them, "You're gaining members."

He titled his head at Lorna.

"Is that what the kids are dying their hair these days?" he asked, "Looks hideous."

Lorna's eyes glowed a deep green. Suddenly Riptide's arm lifted up. Alex had barely any time to realize that Riptide was wearing a watch before he was hurtled to the floor. He watched incredulously as Riptide was dragged back and forth, crashing into the different walls. With a great deal of effort Lorna got to her feet.

"My hair is downright **glorious**," she snapped.

Her foot lashed out and kicked Riptide in the nose. He was sent spinning into the next room just as a new set of guards rushed in. Still in shock Alex got to his feet and sent out a blast. Lorna disarmed them and turned back to where Riptide had been. He was gone but they didn't have time to search for him. They needed to rendezvous with Hank and Sean.

"Come on," he said, "The others are waiting."

As they ran he looked at her casually. There was a sheen of sweat on her face and her hair flowed freely behind her. She looked beautiful.

"Your hair looks awesome you know," he said.

"I know, but thanks anyway," Lorna answered.

Alex paused.

"So, um, you got a date for Prom?"

She gave him an odd look.

"I just beat the shit out of that guy back there and that made you think of Prom?"

Briefly he reflected on how he probably could've chosen a more romantic moment.

"Yeah?" he ventured, "So, you haven't answered my question. Do you?"

They reached a door at the end of the hall. Lorna spread out her hand and the metal doors opened.

"If the right person asks," she said.

"I'm asking," said Alex, "Am I the right person?"

She grinned.

"I think you'll do nicely."


	17. Chapter 17

"I dink my node id broken," said Riptide.

From his corner in the room Mystique saw Azazel roll his eyes. Angel was applying gauze to Riptide's face, dabbing away at the dried blood. She'd become very versatile with patching up members of the Brotherhood who became injured. Since they'd expanded she'd only had to deal with the 'inner circle' of members, but it didn't mean that her skill was any less appreciated.

The smell of blood and alcohol was turning her stomach. She put a hand to her mouth and closed her eyes, hoping that she could disguise her nauesea for thoughtfulness. When she opened them again she saw Azazel smirking at her. Mystique wanted to say something, but she couldn't in front of all the others. With a flick of his tail he turned his attention back to thier injured 'brother'.

Sitting next to Riptide and watching intently was Erik. He was angry at the failure of the most recent mission; she could tell by the way his eyebrow was furrowed. The arsenal that they would have taken was supposed to supply them for the next year. Instead many members had been locked up and they didn't have a single handgun to show for it and many members had been locked up. He was silent; but she knew Riptide would have hell to pay later.

"It's nearly **shattered**," Angel said, "How did you manage this?"

"Girl kicked me in the node," he said.

"A girl kicked you in the nose," Erik repeated coldly, "Please, please tell me that this girl was, in the very least, one of us."

"She wad," said Riptide, "She wad wid the X-men."

"With the X-men?" asked Erik.

Riptide nodded.

"Dere was dis weird-looking girl wid de normal boys," said Riptide.

"Charles' pets have gained another member then," said Erik.

"Nod just thad," Riptide said, "She was bending metal. Like you."

There was a deep pause. Erik put rubbed his temples and Mystique could tell that Riptide had only dug the hole deeper for himself. In her experience Erik was very 'kill the messenger' and having someone out there who was exactly like him was probably like a punch to the gut. She shared a glance with Angel; this was bad.

"Interesting development. I would appreciate it if you would all leave now," he said, "I need to have a discussion with Janos."

Mystique detached herself from the wall. Angel got up and all but scurried out of the room. She had been on the receiving end of Magneto's wrath before and had no urge to even be near him when he was angry. Feeling tired Mystique walked out. Azazel filed out behind her and they closed the door. There would be fireworks that night.

Angel rounded a corner and disappeared from the hallway. Almost immediately afterwards Mystique felt a hand on her arm and was enveloped by black smoke. Coughing she looked up and saw that she was in Azazel's room. He was watching her with a speculative look as her hand swatted away the smoke.

"I am **not **in the mood for this tonight," she said.

"Oh, you were thinking that?" he grinned, "Well, perhaps later if you're lucky."

"You're disgusting," Mystique coughed.

"You said it first," he shrugged, "But you have been keeping secrets, da?"

She made a face while her heart skipped a beat.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, heading for the door.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her flush up against him. His free hand slid down to her stomach. Azazel leaned in so that his lips touched her ear.

"Do not lie my Raisa," he whispered, "How long until I am to become father?"

Mystique could have screamed. How did he know?

"I don't-"

"You do."

"Even if I were pregnant," she said, fighting to keep her voice under control, "It doesn't mean that it's yours. It could be Erik's."

He laughed.

"Do not be silly lubov moya," he said, kissing her neck, "I am not stupid. Now, when is our child to be born?"

She wanted scream but there really wasn't anything she could do now. If he already knew there was no point in keeping it a secret.

"Seven months," she said.

"Kakya vstrecha!" Azazel said pleasantly, "How wonderful."

Mystique shoved him away.

"No, this is not wonderful," she snapped, "I'm pregnant and…and…"

"And?" he asked.

Angrily she threw her hands into the air. Tears were welling in her eyes and she didn't want to cry. If she did then he would have won.

"I don't want to be! I don't want this child!"

His expression went from playful to hard in an instant. Suddenly she realized how her words must have sounded.

"I don't mean it like that," she said quickly, "I would never…I mean…but…"

"Very good," said Azazel, "As long as we have that settled."

Although his expression was terrifying she couldn't help but take offense.

"We?" said Mystique disbelievingly, "There is no we. There is no us. There is** me** and **my** baby. This has nothing to do with you!"

Azazel quirked an eyebrow.

"Oh, is this some new power Raisa, some quirk of mutation?" he asked, "Of course! No, no father needed. All you and no one else."

"You're so damn infuriating," she said.

"Come come," smiled Azazel, "You must admit that the rebyonak is at least half mine. Logic."

"I don't know what that means!" she snapped, "I don't know Russian and you know it!"

"It means child," said Azazel, "Our child. Half mine, half yours. Half your genes, half mine. And I hear I might be the one to give him his mutation. So maybe he's more mine than yours."

"That's not true!"

"Perhaps it is," he said, "What do you think of that?"

Mystique folded her arms and turned away. He came up behind her again but didn't touch her this time.

"What were you planning on?" he asked, "Telling fearless leader that it was his? That might work, until my rebyonak was born. That would be strange. What would you say if he had tail or teleported? Hmm?"

"I wasn't going to do that!" Mystique said, "Erik deserves more than to raise another man's child thinking it's his own."

Azazel laughed again.

"Then that is settled too," he said, "And I am glad of it. But what were you going to do; child must have a father."

Anger was mixing with despair now.

"That's not necessarily true."

"But if you tell Magneto it's not his then you must identify someone," insisted Azazel, "What was the plan?"

"There wasn't a plan, okay?" she snarled, turning around to face him, "I don't know what I'm going to do about this baby. Alright? Are you happy?"

Azazel tilted his head.

"Da."

She knew enough to know what that meant. Mystique lashed out her hand to strike him but he caught it.

"Now now," he said, "As it happens I do have a plan. Would you like to hear it?"

Irritated that she couldn't even strike back she jerked her hand away.

"It's not like I have a choice," said Mystique, "If I try to run you'll just catch up and teleport me back."

"Da," he said, "Now sit down."

Mystique flopped back on the bed and watched him through narrowed eyes. Azazel spread his palms out wide as though he were trying to sell something.

"Now, here is plan," he said, "Go to him as soon as possible. Tell him that it's nothing really, but you'd like to stop seeing him."

"But I don't-"

"Ah," he said, "Just listen. And you will go separate ways. Then, maybe a month later, you let it be known that you are now seeing me. We go together for a few weeks. Then, lo and behold you are pregnant! Kakya vstrecha!"

"Stop saying that," she mumbled.

"You can make yourself look less pregnant, I know," he said, "And then we will retire for a bit. We can say the child comes early, lie about his age, something like that. We can work that out. But we can raise the rebyonak together properly. No one will know when he was concieved. Good plan, da?"

She mulled it over in her head. Uncertainly she said;

"Are you…proposing?"

To her surprise he seemed to be considering it.

"If you want Raisa," he said, "We will decide this later. But do not give me an answer right away. I know you still fawn over **him**."

For the first time in her conversation she heard something approaching bitterness and anger in his voice. It shocked her deeply. Suddenly Mystique realized that she wasn't just cheating on Erik with Azazel. She was also cheating on Azazel with Erik. The revelation was terrifying.

"But it will work," he said, "Think about it, will you?"

Disconcerted Mystique swallowed and nodded. He smiled.

"There's my Raisa," said Azazel.


	18. Chapter 18

"Everything fine in there?" asked Rahne.

"Yeah. I'm just not quite used to dresses this puffy," said Lorna.

She stepped out of her room and into the hallway. True to her word the dress was puffy, but the gown also swept the floor dramatically. The cream satin halter turtle neck hugged her torso while the tule skirt fluffed out.

"You look wonderful," Rahne said.

Lorna turned in it a few times, brushing imaginary lint off her skirt.

"Do you think it clashes with my hair?" she asked.

"Nope," Rahne said, "I think it looks very good. It sort of compliments it, you know?"

"That's exactly what Maeve said," Lorna said, turning and going back into her room

"Who's Maeve?" frowned Rahne.

"Sean's girlfriend," Lorna explained, "She's a local. Helped me shop around. I've never done this before, and she was really great about it."

"Is she a mutant?" Rahne asked, entering the room and closing the door.

Lorna hesitated before shaking her head.

"No," she said, "She doesn't even know about Sean."

At first Lorna had been disconcerted when she was told how long Sean had kept his mutation from Maeve. When she asked him about it he'd given a bitter laugh and said;

"Would you date a guy who could turn your brain to putty if someone dropped something on his foot?"

There was nothing she could say to that. She tucked a stray strand of green hair behind her ear as there was a knock on the door. Lorna straightened and Rahne squealed.

"It's your boyfriend, isn't it!"

"Rahne," Lorna chided.

Still squealing Rahne bounced over and opened the door. Alex leaned in the doorframe and looked down at Rahne with amusement.

"Ah, and here I was thinking I could get past meeting an enraged sibling willing to break my neck if I broke Lorna's heart," sighed Alex dramatically, "But alas, I am thwarted."

"You'd better believe it!" Rahne chirped.

"Rahne," sighed Lorna, pushing past her.

"I'll be up waiting for you and then you have to tell me all about it!"

"Okay, okay," said Lorna, closing the door, "See you!"

"See you!"

The door closed and Lorna looked shyly at Alex. He grinned and picked up her hand. Immediately she blushed, even though she told herself that he was only holding her hand. With a grin his other hand came up and slid a yellow rose corsage on her wrist. Alex kissed her hand and then let go.

"What do you think?" he asked.

She stared at the rose. Unbidden the thought that she'd struck gold with Alex came.

"It's pretty," she said.

"Like the person it was made for," Alex said.

She blushed again and laughed.

"Smooth," she said,

"I can be smooth when I want to be," he said.

"The key words are 'when you want to be'," Lorna said, "Now come on, we're missing the party."

* * *

><p>"Don't make me do this."<p>

"Oh no. You signed up to be a chaperone and you're going to be a chaperone," said Moira, tying his bow-tie, "Now come on. We already booked Mrs. Johnson to take care of David. He's already downstairs"

Charles groaned.

"Sweetheart, next time the urge possesses me to oversee hoards of hormonal teens dancing stop me," he said.

She laughed and kissed his forehead.

"I don't know," said Moira, "It reminds me of when we started dating. You remember?"

"Of course I do," he said, "It wasn't that long ago."

He gave a wry smile.

"Still…are **memories** all that brings?" he asked suggestively.

Moira ruffled his hair and laughed.

"Not in front of the children," she said, "But maybe later."

"Alright then," Charles said, "Let's go down and meet the hordes."

* * *

><p>"Pictures too?"<p>

"Yeah. A few kids have photography equipment, so go us!"

She gave him a skeptical look.

"Hey," Alex said, "I said I'd take you to the prom. And that means I'm doing things properly."

He pulled her into the line. She was smiling at him and he found himself wishing that the school year was longer. Summer was coming soon and he'd go home with Scott. Lorna was going to stay at the school since they didn't think it was safe for her and Rahne to go to Muir Island just yet.

Although his summer break was only a month, he was starting the term early due to the Brotherhood's increased activity, he wouldn't see her in that time. It was a shame, but he was definitely going to keep in contact with her during the month he was away. It sounded sappy but he really hadn't met anyone like her before.

Lorna was opinionated, strong, smart, and he supposed the word was lively. She accepted all of a person. She'd been on a few other missions with them and had consistently held her own. Overall she was just really fun to be around. And, despite their constant bantering, he knew she liked being around him too.

It was a major change from when he had been the delinquent in his household. He'd dated then; mostly the type of girl you'd bring home to enrage the folks. His parents hadn't really minded. They ignored their freak son except when they decided to yell at him for his most recent brush with the law. The only one who had seen him like he was someone was his little brother. Not really that encouraging.

Then he'd come to the school and fought and become a hero. Sure, the X-men weren't the Invaders and Lorna wasn't a nameless mysterious government spy. However, he could feel everything coming together. Alex had found purpose, and he would definitely not mind doing what he was doing now for the rest of his life.

The photographer motioned to them and they stepped forward. Someone had constructed an archway with roses growing in the trellises. It was probably some mutant who coudl do things with plants. He didn't know of one personally but he was sure the school had at least one.

Next to him Lorna put a hand around his back and onto his shoulder. It displayed the corsage on her wrist perfectly. At first he had been afraid that it wouldn't match her dress. Alex was only going on information gleaned from when he'd seen her pick yellow roses in the gardens once. He'd figured that, if it wasn't her favorite flower, it was among her top ten. He was glad that it had turned out fine.

In response to her hand he put an arm around her waist. They smiled and the camera flashed a few times. When it was finishing up he motioned to Hank and Sean, who were standing on the sidelines. Neither of them had dates. Sean still hadn't told Maeve about what he was and hence couldn't invite her to the prom. Hank wasn't comfortable enough with his appearance to try and date someone. They'd have to fix that soon.

"Team picture?" asked Lorna.

"For posterity," he answered.

"Yeah, posterity," Sean said, "Whatever."

"Maybe the Professor and housekeeper should be in on it," said Hank, jerking his head towards where they were standing, chaperoning.

"Nah," said Alex, "This is just an informal picture for us kids. Come on."

Hank sighed but he and Sean stepped up.

"Now, could you get on her right, and if you could get on his left," the photographer said.

They arranged themselves in the requested manner. Lorna put her arms around Alex and Sean's shoulders. Sean followed suit and soon they were all standing like that. There were a few more flashes and they parted.

"You're paying for that," Hank told Alex.

"Ah, don't be such a spoil sport," Alex said, "I'm having fun tonight. Come on Lorna, last dance of the night!"

He dragged her into the fray. The band was playing something slow and sappy; he didn't know the name of it. Alex slipped his hands around her waist and she laced her hands behind his neck. They swayed together. As he found out during the first few dances he couldn't do anything beyond slow dancing. Lorna, the ballerina, was patient with him but he knew he was going to get teased for it later.

Together they continued to sway.

"I had a really great time tonight," she said.

"Me too," said Alex.

Lorna paused, and then boosted herself up on her toes. Her lips touched his tentatively and he blinked. She pulled away after a few seconds, looking nervous.

"What-?"

"Tonight's been perfect," she said, "and I always told myself that I wasn't going to miss out on having my first kiss on a perfect night."

"That was your first kiss?" asked Alex.

She nodded.

"Alright," he said, "Since you instigated the first one, can I do the second?"

A slight laugh escaped her lips before he went in to kiss her again.


	19. Chapter 19

_I was fourteen when Victory in Europe was declared. There was a party in the hospital, and I had my first glass of champagne there with my father. If you can imagine it think of your birthday and Christmas happening at the same time. Everyone was celebrating. Several people had taken to the streets, yelling things in French I could barely understand. _

_For all the jubilation I knew we couldn't go home yet. The war was still raging in the Pacific and it would take more than a simple declaration of victory to heal the soldiers in our care. Our work would not end for a good deal of time. We knew this. Yet, everyone felt like we were looking at a brave new world. _

Lorna turned the page. It was the third day of summer break. Alex had left the day before with Scott in tow. She'd already written him once. She figured the sooner she wrote the sooner he'd write back. And he had promised to write back. He wouldn't break his promise if he knew what was good for him when he returned to the school.

Rahne was on a hike with a few friends. For her part she had declined to join them. Lorna hadn't had much time for reading since she'd joined the X-men. Now that she seemed to have some leftover time she vowed that she was going to finish the journal. She'd waited long enough to know what it was that her mother had felt was important enough that she would commit to paper.

Taking a bite of an apple she'd taken from teh kitchen as a snack Lorna continued reading.

_Nonetheless the hospital was more crowded than ever. Thankfully the wounds were no longer something that had to be treated immediately. There were dressings to change but the death rate in the hospital fell steadily. Wounded soldiers were being shipped to hospitals in the states now so they could be with their families while they recovered. _

_Many hospitals were also taking in the victims of the Concentration Camps that had been found scattered across Europe. Several had contracted diseases and all were suffering from malnutrition. I found myself there more days than most, trying to give them foods that wouldn't destroy their digestive systems but instead strengthen them. _

_It was around this time that I met your father. _

She choked on the piece of apple she was eating. Forcing herself to calm down Lorna swallowed. Closing her eyes she clenched the sides of the journal. Part of her didn't want to read on. Her mother hadn't been very forthcoming about such information when she was alive. Lorna had only supposed that she was left in too much pain to speak of it.

If her father was a wounded soldier that would make him at least eighteen at this point. However, she knew her mother wouldn't be dallying with someone that much older than her. It didn't make sense to her. So much for that theory. She saw that it was more likely that he was a French local or a visiting family member. Either way it didn't matter; she was going to hear about her father for the first time in her life soon.

Swallowing she read on.

* * *

><p>"Charles?"<p>

Moira walked into his office, wrapping her bathrobe around her. Her husband was staring out the window. On his desk was a leather-bound journal. While she didn't flatter herself by thinking that she knew everything about Charles' office, she knew that it was new. Perhaps it had something to do with the current situation.

"It's nearly midnight," she said, "Are you coming to bed?"

He didn't answer right away. Frowning she walked next to him. His face was blank, a sure sign that he was deep in thought.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Charles sighed.

"Lorna came in here six hours ago and made a rather unusual request," he said.

"Six hours?" asked Moira, "And you've been thinking about it all this time?"

He nodded. Suddenly she felt apprehensive and reached out for his hand. It didn't move beneath her touch, which worried her.

"What was it?"

His lips tensed into a thin line.

"You may be familiar with the fact that Lorna was raised in a single-parent household," he said.

"Yes, Rose told me."

Again Charles nodded. All of his words were strangely mechanical and robotic.

"Her mother left behind an account of…just about her entire life to Lorna," said Charles, "She wasn't one for words apparently and wanted her daughter to know exactly what happened. The original plan was to save it for her until she was old enough. I don't know when Susanna planned to give the journal to Lorna, but it was given to her directly after her mother's death."

Beneath her hand she felt Charles' twitch.

"I see," said Moira.

"She's been reading it for quite some time," he said, "And…today she found out her father's name. Her mother spent a lot of time looking for him after she found out she was pregnant, but gave up before Lorna was born. It was like he disappeared off the face of the Earth."

Charles leaned back.

"Lorna thinks her father might have been a mutant. She asked if I could find him with Cerebro."

"But Susanna said he wasn't a mutant," Moira said.

"I don't think Susanna knew," Charles said, "And Lorna thinks the same. They were young and, her words exactly were; 'I think he hid it from her like Sean hides his mutation from Maeve. I think he didn't want to be rejected.'"

Moira considered it.

"She might be right."

"Mmm," said Charles, "She might be. If I find him then she says that she wants to meet him."

"Well, you can do that, if he is a mutant," Moira said, "You've found a lot of people with that machine."

"I suppose that I could find him," Charles said quietly, "but finding him and getting him to come are two completely different things."

"I'm sure he'd want to meet his daughter," said Moira, "Most men would. I mean…it'll be shocking to him. But I'm sure we could arrange something. And if not…well, then at least Lorna will know."

Charles shook his head. His free hand made a vague gesture and it was only then that she realized he was holding something.

"I wish it were that simple."

She laughed, made nervous by the agitation in his voice.

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Perhaps because her father's name is Erik Lensherr."

There was a long silence.

"That can't be right," Moira whispered.

"It's what her mother wrote," said Charles tiredly, "And it makes sense when you think about it."

"But…I…"

"Moira, look at this. It was in the journal."

He brought his other hand round. In it was an old black and white photograph. There was a woman in it who looked somewhat like Lorna, even though her hair was probably brown. Another teenager stood next to her, an arm put companionably across her shoulders. Although the years had done their toll it was unmistakenably Erik.

"Oh my God," she murmured.

"My thoughts exactly," Charles said, putting the picture down on his desk, "He doesn't know of her existence; I'm sure of it."

"How?"

Charles gripped her hand and sighed.

"Erik is...possessive. If he knew he had a daughter he would have sought her out," he said, "The only question we have to ask ourselves now is what do **we **do?"

Almost angrily he shook his head.

"How do I explain to her that her father is the man she's been fighting against all this time?" he demanded, "How do I get him to come? Should I even want him to?"

Moira didn't say anything; she just rubbed circles on the back of his palm.

"You think we shouldn't tell him, don't you?" asked Charles.

"I don't think that," said Moira softly, "I don't know what to think. He's her father…but…he's also a wanted man. I don't know Charles."

He leaned his head down. Moira got up and sat in his lap, cradling his head to her. Charles sagged into her and she could see the stress that this was causing him. For six hours he'd probably been thinking of nothing else. As if his burden wasn't already heavy enough he had to deal with this as well.

"Whatever you decide, I'll stand by you," she said, "I swear I will."

His fingers dug into her shoulders, pulling her closer

"I need to tell him sweetheart," he said, "I…can't keep this a secret from both of them. He's my friend and she's my student. I have a duty to both of them."

He looked at her with pleading eyes.

"If nothing else he deserves a chance to talk to her before she finds out who he is. He deserves a chance to have her understand him, and she deserves the chance to try."

She nodded. It was the decision that she knew he'd reach.

"Okay," she said, "Okay."

Moira took a deep breath.

"So what do we do now?" 

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_For all of you who knew or figured that out, good job adn congratulations! Now we're going to have some drama heating up here. In the comics Lorna Dane, or Polaris, was the daughter of Susanna Dane and Erik Lensherr. Thier background together was a little spotty, since the most information we have on Susanna comes from House of M which was an alternate reality. I ended up using the 'American in France' for her. And Lorna was also the youngest of Magneto's four children, the other three being Anya, Pietro, and Wanda. Anya died in a house fire when she was a toddler, the more you hear about his life the more you sympathize with the guy, and Pietro and Wanda are twins. Just felt a little less complicated to use her instead of the two of them. Besides, Lorna is Alex's girlfriend in the comics. _


	20. Chapter 20

The mansion had changed drastically since he'd last seen it. More trees had been planted and benches installed. As he walked through the halls he saw classrooms labelled and numbered. Erik took care not to be seen as he entered Charles' study. He hadn't come to cause any trouble that day after all.

Nothing much had changed there at least. On one of the shelves was what he assumed was a wedding picture of him and Moira. Apparently things really had progressed. The urge to go through the desk and find out what else he was up to was nearly overwhelming.

He sat down in one of the chairs in front of Charles' desk, wondering how much longer it would take before his friend appeared. Mystique was waiting in a hotel in the village with Azazel. They were there in case any government agents got any clever ideas. In them he had both back-up and an easy way to leave.

After waiting for a few minutes he heard the door open. Charles wheeled himself inside, closing the door and locking it before proceeding.

"Afraid of something happening Charles?" asked Erik.

"Afraid of Hank coming in. I don't think his reaction to your presence would be positive," Charles said, "The only people who know you're here are Moira and I."

"Hm. From your wedding ring and the picture I can only assume she's the current Mrs. Xavier," Erik said.

"Around two years ago actually," Charles replied.

He cocked his head.

"I told you that you didn't need the helmet," he said.

"Yes; I heard that when you used Angel as a mouthpiece for your invitation. Don't do that again Charles."

Inwardly he shuddered. Seeing Angel's eyes roll in the back of her head and then start speaking with his old friend's words had been horrifying.

"It was the only surefire way I knew I could contact you," Charles answered.

"Well, you'll understand if after that display I prefer to err on the side of caution," Erik said, tapping his helmet.

Finally his wheelchair settled so that it was next to Erik's chair.

"It's strange. I haven't worn the helmet for years without the cape," he added.

"They're both over-theatrical," said Charles, "I hope you trust my word more over the next few days. Otherwise things will be awkward."

Erik's eyes narrowed.

"The next few days?" he asked.

"Your decision," said Charles, "I'd like to start this conversation by asking if you were ever acquainted with a woman named Susanna Dane."

Something in his brain sparked. He shoved it down but Charles had already seen the surprise on his face.

"I'll take that as a yes," Charles said, "How so?"

"Why?"

"No need to be so suspicious," sighed Charles, "I'm just asking a question."

Still wary Erik said;

"She was a nurse in the ward that took care of refugees from the camps. We were around the same age. I didn't have any family so I ended up staying there for several years."

"And the two of you were romantically involved."

It wasn't a question. His hand formed into a fist.

"My past isn't exactly the smoothest stroll down memory lane," he said, "And if you're just going to ask these questions, then I'd ask that you stop. Then we can start up a game of chess. At least there would a point to that."

"There's a point to this," said Charles.

He cleared his throat.

"A few weeks after you left Susanna found out that she was pregnant."

The word 'pregnant' clanged in his head and turned his insides to lead. Far off in the distance he heard Charles continue to speak.

"Nine months later she gave birth to a girl named Lorna."

Mutely Erik shook his head.

"No, that can't be right. You've made some sort of mistake Charles."

"I'm afraid not," he said, "Susanna died some months ago but she left documentation naming you as Lorna's father."

Erik buried his head in his hands. The metal of his helmet was cool, and for once he was grateful for its frigid temperature. At least that way there was something to contain his now-feverish skin.

"It was rather, shocking when we found out," Charles said, "But we should have seen it. I think I did, just hoped that it wasn't true. She does look a little like you to be honest."

Through his confusion Erik gave Charles a helpless look.

"You've met her?" he asked.

"She's one of my students," replied Charles.

His mind was racing, corroborating everything he had heard over the past few months with the new information.

"Is she part of your 'X-men'?" he asked.

"Yes," said Charles, "She fought her way onto the team. Literally. Managed to do quite a bit of damage before she was confirmed as a member."

Erik gave a bitter laugh.

"If it helps, she doesn't know that Erik Lensherr is Magneto," said Charles, "There was no real reason for us to name you before this point."

"Thank you for that much," Erik said, "But…she controls metal, doesn't she?"

One of his eyes opened in time to see Charles nod.

"Riptide told me about it," said Erik, "At first I was furious that there was someone out there who was exactly like me. But now…she's my daughter?"

"We're positive," said Charles, "I thought that the ability to control metal was just a coincidence; some mutations repeat. But with her mother's information it's certain."

Suddenly it all seemed too much. He hadn't felt like this in a long time. Erik hadn't had any family since his parents had died. He'd lost his chance to gain one when he'd spurned Susanna and her father's offer to take him with them to America. He couldn't have gone though. If he had gone to America then he never would have been able to find Shaw or any of his associates.

Susanna had never seemed to understand that. The more he talked about hunting down those who had wronged him the more uncomfortable she became. It was why he'd never revealed his mutation to her. In her mind things were black and white, good and evil, no middle ground. That had been one of the things that convinced him that they were too different. When he was seventeen he told her that he cared about her but it was time for them to part ways.

Over the years he had grown more and more distant from the rest of humanity. He was tied down to no one. When he had met Charles the offer of family was again put on the table. Again he had spurned it, though he realized that he did want Charles to be his brother in more than just their cause. His reason for rejecting family was just that time. He was doing it for the sake of mutantkind.

Any time someone had tried to make him their family he had shoved them away. Now though, now he had already made Lorna his family. She'd been his family from the moment she'd been conceived. It didn't matter if it took him a long time to find out about it or not. She was his daughter.

"I…this is a lot to take in," he said at last.

"I'd imagine so," Charles said, "But Lorna has expressed an interest in meeting you."

He blinked.

"She wants to…she…she'd want to…?"

"She came in here the other day with her assembled information and asked me to try and find you. It's how I found out in the first place acutally," Charles said, "I felt that I was in no position to deny either her or you."

"You were in every position," Erik said, suddenly feeling a surge of irrationality, "She's a member of your team. For all the times we play chess we're still on opposite sides of the board. Why would you do this for me?"

Charles gave a wry smile.

"Erik, on my desk there are several pictures. Do you see the one with the silver frame? It's new, the frame I mean. It was an anniversary gift from Moira's mother."

"I see it," he said warily.

"Turn it."

With a glance he had the frame rotate so he could see the picture. His eyes widened. The picture portrayed Moira, smiling. Yet, he barely even noticed her. In the picture she was holding a chubby child with a few strands of auburn hair. The child's periwinkle blue eyes gazed with interest at the camera.

"You're a father?" he asked.

"Yes. His name is David, David Charles Xavier," replied Charles, "Moira wanted to name him after me but we negotiated so it became his middle name. He'll turn seven months soon."

"I'm glad for you," Erik said, the sudden excess of paternity feeling like a punch to the gut, "but I'm not sure how this relates to our conversation."

"You don't?" Charles said.

His friend gave him a sad smile and leaned back in his wheelchair.

"It has everything to do with it," he said, "And I'll tell you why; if Moira had given birth to David and I'd never met him, never even known him, then I know I'd want more than anything to rectify that."

Swallowing Erik looked down.

"Now Lorna doesn't know you're here," he said, "You can have as much time as you want to think about whether or not you want to meet her-"

"No," interrupted Erik.

His hands touched the cool metal of his helmet. He took it off and laid it on the desk. When he looked up his face was set.

"I'm meeting her as soon as possible, and not as Magneto," he said, "It's high time Erik Lensherr met his daughter."


	21. Chapter 21

Lorna stared at herself in the mirror with a sinking feeling of dread. She pulled a lock of green hair forward and twisted it around her finger.

"It's okay Lorna," she said, "You look beautiful. You look like you know what you're doing; like you're smart. He'll like you."

Her eyes strayed to the outfit she had laid on her bed. It was a yellow scoop-necked blouse with long sleeves. There were a pair of burgundy slacks with it that she'd always found flattering in the past. Together she'd always thought that she looked good in it; colorful and bright. Now she could only gnaw on her lip.

Turning back to the mirror she tugged on her hair again. Tears formed in her eyes. She began to think about the scarves she'd used in the past to cover her hair. They had lain forgotten for months. Lorna still remembered how to use them though. It would be very easy to just cover up the green mass that was on the top of her head.

There was a knock on the door. Startled Lorna's heart leapt into her throat. With a swallow she opened it to see Hank standing in the doorway.

"Hey," he said, "I was just coming to return that book you leant me…"

His voice trailed off.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"Oh, no," she said, "Nothing's wrong. What made you think that?"

"It's just, you sort of look like you're going to cry," Hank said, "And…why are you wearing all black?"

She looked down. She'd paired a black turtleneck with a matching knee-length skirt.

"It's not that odd for me," said Lorna.

"I've never seen you wear all black before," said Hank, frowning, "Is something happening that I don't know about?"

Lorna bit her lip.

"I…maybe you should come inside," she said.

Hank's eyes widened and then narrowed as he came in.

"If Alex hasn't been writing you then I can call and knock some sense into him," he offered, "He's been a great friend but he can be a real asshole sometimes."

"No, it's not Alex," she said.

Lorna took a deep breath.

"The Professor found my father."

His eyes widened again. He set the book down on her dresser and sat on the edge of her bed.

"That's great?" he ventured.

"Yeah, I know," said Lorna, "But, it sounds like he dropped everything and got here real fast. He…he's downstairs now apparently."

"That **is** fast."

"Yeah," agreed Lorna, "I didn't even know the Professor had found him until about an hour ago. So now I'm going to go downstairs and meet him in the study."

She saw Hank raise a clawed digit to his chin thoughtfully.

"Okay. What does this have to do with you all in black? I haven't seen you in a dress or skirt since Prom," he said.

His eyes lit up with understanding. Hank got up and shook his head.

"Oh Lorna," he said.

"I don't know what he expects," said Lorna defensively, holding back tears, "What if I'm not the daughter he wanted? I mean, think about how I dress. I know a lot of people have problems with women in pants and I dress like I'm a rainbow. And my hair…"

Everything screamed at her to shut up. How dare she harp on her hair to Hank? Lorna stumbled over her words.

"I know I have no right to complain," she said, "But…I…"

"Lorna," interrupted Hank, "don't hold things back. I asked you what was wrong and you told me."

He strode over so that he stood in front of her.

"Lorna, I didn't always look this way," he said.

She shook her head.

"You don't have to-"

"No, I do," he said, "You see, I used to have all these powers but I looked like anyone else. Except for my feet; they were something else. Like Bigfoot on steroids."

His lips turned up but Lorna failed to see the humor in his words.

"But I thought that it wasn't enough," continued Hank, "I needed to look exactly like everyone else. I made what I thought would change my image."

Hank made a gesture to his blue furry body.

"This happened instead," he said.

Clasping her hands Lorna looked at the ground.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be. I'm not happy with how I look, but I know what I did wrong. And I'm not talking about the formula," he said, "I tried to be like everyone else when I should have been happy with what I had."

Stepping forward he took her hands in his.

"I think your father wants to meet you," he said.

"I know-"

"No, I think he wants to meet **you**, not some image of yourself you put up so he'd like you. He hasn't met you at all if you do that," said Hank, "Don't make my mistake, okay?"

Something painful flickered across his face.

"Mutant and proud," he said.

"Mutant and proud?" she repeated.

"Something an...an old friend told me," said Hank, "Mutant and proud."

Lorna looked back to where her other set of clothes were. She stood up straighter.

"Thanks Hank." 

* * *

><p>Erik found his fingers tapping the arm rest of his chair. Where was she? Admittedly this had been sprung on her rather suddenly. She probably wanted to take some time and calm down before she came downstairs. He told himself that it couldn't be because she had changed her mind; she had orchestrated the whole thing in the first place.<p>

He glanced at the clock. To his surprise he found that it hadn't been that long. His fingers began to tap the armrest a little faster.

"Now I'll make sure you aren't disturbed," Charles' voice echoed from the corridor outside, "I know this is scary for you, but he's just as eager to meet you as you are to meet him."

There was no response. Erik swallowed and sat up straighter.

"Alright," Charles said, "Best of luck Lorna."

The wheels of his friend's wheelchair clacked down the hallway, growing further and further away. How considerate of him. For a few seconds there was only silence. He waited with bated breath to see what she did next. Then he heard the doorknob start to turn. Something stopped inside of him.

In one movement his head turned. Standing in the doorway was a teenage girl. Large green eyes stared at him, matching her hip-length hair. She was a burst of color in a room full of traditional brown and red tones. There was a sort of glow around her, just like the first thing he'd noticed about her mother.

She shut the door behind her and walked until she was a few feet away from him. At the last moment he remembered that he should be standing. Erik got to his feet and he saw Lorna take a step back. It was an instinctive movement, but one that made him wince. He didn't want his daughter to be scared of him; even if it was just nerves causing it.

"Hi," she said, her voice low, "I'm Lorna Dane."

"I know," he said.

Almost immediately he winced again. What the hell was he saying? He coughed and scratched the back of his neck. Why couldn't he find something to say that didn't make him sound like an idiot or a jerk? How could he be uncomfortable with this after everything else he'd been through?

It was then that he noticed Lorna was staring at the ground. Erik coughed again. It was probably best to say what he knew he had to now.

"I didn't know you existed until a little while ago," he said, "But I swear if I had even an inkling that I had a daughter then I would have found you."

Lorna swallowed. He wondered what she would make of such a declaration. He certainly meant it, but he knew it was coming too late. His daughter had spent the first seventeen years of her life without him. Why she had even wanted to meet him at this point was puzzling to him. She didn't need him; she'd shown that by her continued existence.

"But I don't blame you if you're about to tell me off for not being there," said Erik, "Because I should have been."

There was a pause in which Lorna sighed.

"Thank you," she said at last, "But I don't hate you. And…there's really no need to apologize. You didn't know. I didn't even know until a few days ago."

"Yes, but-"

"No, don't worry," Lorna said, still looking at the ground, "You didn't know. And Mother never held a grudge either. I think she understood."

His mouth felt incredibly dry. What was he supposed to say next? She wasn't making eye contact with him, which made him feel like he'd done something wrong. Had his attempt to apologize sounded wrong somehow? Looking closer he could see that in one of her hands a few strands of green hair were clenched.

Almost unconsciously he reached out and took a few strands in his hand. They were very unmistakenably green; perhaps her mutation had made it as a form of camouflage. Her eyes widened in what looked like fear, although he didn't understand what it was she was afraid of. Slowly he turned the strands over in his hand.

"Is this part of your mutation?" he asked.

"Yeah…" said Lorna.

His smile softened.

"Beautiful."

Lorna's eyes widened and she looked up at him. It was the first time he had managed to achieve eye contact with her. Her eyes really were the most startling shade of green. She smiled a little. Erik was surprised by her reaction. He wasn't sure what he had said or done to earn it, but it was certainly a start. 

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **From what I've read, as a villain, Erik wasn't such a bad father. Probably made it in the top ten best Marvel villain parents. Wow that was a weird sentence. Of course, he is sitll a Marvel villain. _


	22. Chapter 22

Emma pulled up the hood of her jacket a little more. She was surprised how easy it was to disguise herself; she just had to wear clothes that weren't white. That was why she was walking the streets in a hooded brown jacket with a red scarf and a blue skirt. Even if she did showed her face and ran into someone from the Hellfire Club then they wouldn't look at her twice. The White Queen wore white. Commoners wore other colors. Simple as that.

She sat down on a bench and pulled out a book. Her eyes scanned the text and she waited patiently. There were a few footsteps and a bag was set down next to her. Emma waited for a reasonable amount of time before pulling the bag close to her and reaching inside. There was a dossier disguised as a book of poetry. Jason was being tight-lipped as to how he planned on rising through the ranks. She personally couldn't care less. The White Queen had to keep on her toes though. She'd put spies in every camp of the rest of the Lords Cardinal. Emma held no illusions; they did the same to her. That was why she picked up her information herself.

Opening the book she read on. There was a file for one Maria Jackson, CIA scientist. Her eyebrows raised. While the name was different the picture was definitely of Jason's daughter, Martinique. There was nothing there stating she was a mutant and apparently she had been born in Maine. More lies.

Apparently she was working for someone called Stryker. There was a picture of him enclosed too. Her eyes narrowed. Her time in a CIA holding cell came back to her. She should have killed him. It would have been difficult, but she could have done it. Still, there was no reason to brood on that. The time had passed. Now she only had to figure out why Jason felt the need to put his daughter with something called 'Weapon X'.

Putting that book back she picked out another one. This was of a more personal nature but could still be viewed as gathering information on her enemies. That was the only reason she had let someone else go and find it in the first place. It was a dossier about one Megan Gwyn. She started reading, bored by how predictable it was. Then, around page ten, it got interesting.

Megan Gwyn wasn't seven. She had, in fact, looked seven for three years now. If anyone had gone back a little further they would have realized that she looked six for several years too. Megan wasn't aging in any predictable pattern. What was worse was that when her age froze her mental development froze too. Remaining young forever was a curse if your mind also stayed the same. While her sisters had grown up Megan had stayed a child. No one knew when she would grow up; she could in theory be an eternal child. As a child she would be weak. Just another reason for her father to hate her.

Pausing Emma looked down at her skin. If anyone looked closely they could see the scars that remained from when she had battled Magneto and Professor X in Massachusetts two years prior. What they couldn't see was the way that it was constantly repairing itself. Shaw had told her it had something to do with the way she could change into her diamond form. Her skin cells reproduced at a rapid rate.

If anyone asked Emma said that she was twenty-seven. Her real age was closer to sixty. Of course, unlike poor Megan, she could control it. If she wanted to be twenty-seven for another eighty years than she could. And if someone bothered to help Megan than she could probably control it too.

The White Queen shoved the thought out of her head. Getting sentimental would help no one. Putting the books back she got up and brushed off. She'd stop in a bathroom somewhere and change into white clothes before she reached the Hellfire Club. That way her disguise would remain intact. You had to put on a show.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you want to see these?" said Lorna.<p>

"Of course," Erik replied.

She laughed uneasily. They sat together at a bench in a park in the village outside of the school. After the first meeting he had asked to see her in a place that wasn't in the school. The very idea of Hank walking in on them sent shivers down his spine. When he was ready he'd tell her who he was. Or more specifically, when he thought she was ready to join him.

He'd also radioed Mystique and Azazel that he wouldn't need them for some time. After all, it was best if they didn't know about his daughter just yet. Erik trusted them in every other matter in his life; just not this one.

"They're just pictures," he added.

"Yeah, my baby ones," Lorna said, "Ones before I could focus my eyes or mom could use a camera. But if you insist."

Lorna smiled. No matter what her protests he could tell that she was happy he'd asked to see them. It showed he was interested in hearing about her whole life. Yet, more than that, it was showing him a part of her life he was never going to see otherwise. In the years ahead much could happen, but he would never get those years back.

She opened up the photo album. The first one was a fuzzy picture of Susanna holding her, straight out of the hospital.

"Grandpa took that one," she said, "For all his medical brilliance he couldn't seem to get a good picture of me."

"Let's not jump to conclusions," he replied.

The next few pages were filled of pictures of Lorna with her mother and grandfather. She'd made a rather cute toddler, swimming in dresses of ribbons and lace. All of them were obviously homemade. He remembered vaguely that Susanna liked to make clothes, and it was probably cheaper than going out and buying them.

There was one picture that made more of an impact than any other. Lorna was standing on shaky feet and holding her mother's hand. With her other hand she was flailing, like she was trying to reach someone else's hand. It made him surprisingly angry that he hadn't been there to catch it.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a metal fork bend. He covered it up quickly. While they had only briefly discussed thier powers each knew what random metal bending meant. He didn't want her to think that it was her he was angry at.

After a few pages her grandfather dropped out of the pictures. He inquired about it, already knowing the answer.

"He uh, had a heart attack when I was four," Lorna said, "I can't really remember him; but he didn't throw mom out the minute he found out she was pregnant. A lot of guys would have done that back then, a lot still do. But he helped raise me until he died."

"Dr. Dane was always a good man," said Erik, "You should have seen the parties he organized for the hospital around Christmas. We all got something, no matter how small. Even the ones like me who didn't celebrate Christmas."

"You're Jewish right?"

Erik tilted his head.

"Does that bother you?"

"No," Lorna said, "I just wondered. Mother raised me Christian. Does that bother you?"

He shrugged.

"No. You were brought up one way, I was brought up another," said Erik.

Lorna smiled and turned the page again. This time the chubby toddler had grown into a willowy child. There was a picture of her in a ballerina outfit.

"Lorna, you didn't mention you did ballet," he accused.

"I still do it when I have time," she said, "But it's around this time I manifested my powers. I didn't want anyone to see my hair and I just wanted to stay away from crowds. Mom wanted to give me an outlet though."

Sure enough he could see that it was at this point Lorna had started to cover her hair. In all the pictures after she turned eight her hair was wrapped up somehow. Sometimes it was free for recitals and gym meets but he suspected people assumed that it was part of the performance. His eyes flicked to the fact that Lorna was now freely sporting her hair in a public place.

_If nothing else you gave her confidence Charles, _he thought.

The pictures became scarcer. Hesitating Lorna pointed to one of herself standing with a little girl, her mother, and an unknown woman.

"That's Dr. MacTaggert," she said, "And her adopted daughter Rahne."

"Charles told me about them," he said.

She hesitated again. The next picture was of Lorna and Susanna. They weren't doing anything in particular, just standing together.

"That's the last picture I took with my mother before the accident," Lorna said blankly.

He felt wary as he always did on the subject of Lorna's mother.

"I am sorry about that," he said.

"She was a really great mother," said Lorna, "She could have run from me but she didn't. I sent **knives **around the kitchen. She could have put me up for adoption but she didn't."

Erik shifted uncomfortably.

"Susanna was a good woman," he agreed.

Lorna bit her lip.

"I'm not trying to sound accusatory, but why did you leave her?" she asked, "It was one of the only things that she was vague on."

Erik had been expecting the question. It only surprised him that she had decided to ask it on their third meeting instead of their first. He assumed it was her nerves.

"We were…going down different roads," said Erik, trying to speak carefully, "She recognized it as much as I did. We had been together so long that we were expected to stay together. It was the norm. But…we were different people by the time we parted ways. **I **was a different person."

He stopped.

"I'm not going to lie to you; I wanted revenge against the people who had murdered my parents. The camps…my powers…it had all happened so fast. I grew angrier as I realized little was being done to apprehend war criminals who had escaped. Susanna wanted to move on but I couldn't let go," he said, "She hadn't been in the camps and I felt that, though she was trying, she couldn't understand. I was young and the wrongs done to me and my people were still fresh in my mind. I used my power, the power you inherited, in an attempt to bring some sort of justice to those who had escaped. Where I was going was dangerous and destructive. She knew that, but she also knew that she couldn't stop me."

His words died. He found himself wondering how he had been able to say all of that. He had kept back many things from her, not explaining that he had killed more former Nazis than most soldiers. Erik hadn't even told her about the Brotherhood yet. He thought that after so much time with the X-men a gentle lead-up was in order. There was no way he was leaving his jewel of a daughter behind with people who would leave her defenseless.

Across from him Lorna nodded slowly.

"I can't say that I understand fully," she said, "But you've been through so much; I don't have the right to judge. And…thank you for telling me that dad. It can't have been easy."

Her hand wiped at her eyes. All at once he realized that she was crying for him. It had been so long since anyone had done that that at first he was surprised. Then he wrapped an arm around her and leaned closer to her. She griped his arm and he stroked her beautifully mutated hair. Erik smiled.

"There's no reason to cry for me Lorna," he said, "No reason at all."


	23. Chapter 23

When Erik met Lorna again she was carrying a thick manila envelope. She sat down on the bench next to him.

"I had to pick up my prom pictures at the school office," Lorna said, "I almost forgot about them and I figured I'd pick them up later. But then I thought you might want to see them?"

Her voice was tentative and questioning. It was strange how, after all he knew about his daughter's increcible bravery, she could still be so hesitant around him. Every day that went by he was slowly breaking that image down.

"Of course I do," he said, "I didn't think you were old enough for prom."

"I turned seventeen just in time dad," Lorna smiled.

Inside of him he felt warmth; she had called him 'dad'. It was the first time she had done that to him, and probably to anyone. The fact that she didn't mark the occasion was also special. She had fallen into casual usage of the title after only knowing him a few days. He looked forward to hearing her use it in the future.

Her fingers scrabbled at the envelope. It was closed with tape and staples. She hesitated before raising her hand and magnetically pulling the staples from the paper and into her hand. Erik frowned.

"Why'd you hesitate?" he asked.

Lorna gave him a sheepish grin.

"There are...people around," she said, "I don't want to attract attention."

A nerve twitched in his forehead.

"Are you afraid that something may happen if you do?" asked Erik.

"Not everyone is as understanding as my mother," Lorna said.

"As I well know," he said, "But why should you need thier understanding?"

She paused midway through opening the envelope.

"When they understand they won't be afraid," said Lorna, "That's what the Professor says anyway."

He rolled his eyes.

"While Charles is a genius he seems not to understand human nature that well," Erik said.

"I'm not sure I follow," frowned Lorna.

Erik could sense that he had an advantage and pushed it.

"They'll always be afraid of what's different. Humanity," said Erik, "If they even knew people like us were out there they'd panic; running around like chickens with thier heads cut off."

"Only the idiots are like that," Lorna laughed, "And really, look at the state of the government. They already have thier heads cut off. They don't need our help."

With another laugh she ripped the envelope open. He could sense that the moment was over, but he was sure that another would come. It was enough that he was planting the seeds in Lorna's mind.

She pulled the pictures from the envelope and Erik felt his heart stop.

"This is Alex and I at prom. We're dating right now," she said, "He splashed out for the whole deal; corsage, pictures, real nice about it."

He swallowed.

"_LIAR!"_

_Erik turned furiously at Alex. He remembered him as the rebel, the boy who had been wary of them even after they'd gotten him out of jail. Alex had never seemed to agree wtih Charles' theories, but no one would have known that from the way he was standing and shouting defiantly. _

"_Were you there that you know so much?" Erik demanded. _

"_The Professor told us what you and Mystique did!" snapped Alex. _

"And here's the rest of us," Lorna said, oblivious to his reaction, "We're close. They're like brothers to me, I can't even begin to talk about how many times Hank's helped me with my homework. And Sean's been really good at helping me with my powers. That's why Alex wanted a picture of all of us together."

Through his shock he saw a picture the four of them with their arms over each other's shoulders. The boys he'd helped train and the daughter he'd never known all together in one place. The X-men at prom. It sent home the fact that his daughter was deeply involved with his enemies. He swallowed down the words that he wanted to say; words that would have shocked her and made her recoil.

"He sounds like a decent young man," Erik said instead, hoping that he sounded fatherly.

"He's great. He went home for the summer," said Lorna, "but I hope you can meet him someday."

"I'm sure I will," he answered, reflecting on the irony of life.

* * *

><p>"How can you be thinking of sending the back in the fall!"<p>

"Christopher, just calm down," Katherine said.

"No, I won't! How can you even consider sending them back with those freaks?"

Alex stood with his back to the wall. His hands were clenching into fists and he swallowed the anger that rapidly grew as the conversation progressed. In his mind it was Christopher and Katherine talking, not dad and mom. There was too much distance between them for him to think of him that way.

"We don't have any other option," said Katherine, leaning against the table they were seated at, "What if someone knocks off Scott's glasses? Alex can keep his...problem under control-"

"The neighbors still lock their doors at night because of Alex," snapped Christopher, "God knows something's wrong with him. All of that trouble with those lawyers, and then the government, our name's practically mud in this town."

"But there's nothing like that with Scott," said Katherine, "Heaven knows how hard we tried to make sure that he didn't end up like his brother."

Oh yes, they'd tried very hard to make sure Scott didn't end up like Alex. They'd just never tried very hard to make sure that Alex didn't end up like Alex.

"So? He's still the brother of a criminal to them."

The stairs creaked. His parents were too deep in their argument to hear, but Alex did. On the stairs was Scott in his _Flintstones _pajamas. Beneath his sunglasses Scott's eyes were wide.

"Go back upstairs," Alex whispered.

Scott shook his head and stood by Alex. He peered around the doorframe but Alex grabbed him and pulled him back. Scott wrested free, looking surprised.

"Mom and dad are talking right now boy scout," he said, "Go back upstairs."

"Listen," he heard Katherine say, "I don't like it any more than you do but-"

"Alex can go to a normal college or go down and get a job like anyone else," snapped Christopher, "And Scott's in control enough to go to normal school now."

"But I don't want to go to normal school!" Scott said, jumping into the room, "I like it there! I wanna go there!"

"What are you doing up?" demanded Christopher.

Alex smacked his palm into his forehead. Still, he stepped behind his brother.

"Don't blame him," he said, "You'd wake the dead."

Christopher rolled his eyes.

"Now is not the time for this Alex."

"Look," he said, trying to be reasonable, "You guys know I won't get accepted to any other college with my criminal record. And Scott likes it there."

"As we've heard," said Katherine tiredly, "Go back to bed."

Her condescending tone made his stomach churn. He'd fought terrorists in the past few years; he didn't need to just roll over.

"I'm not two," Alex snapped, "I'm eighteen. Don't 'go back to bed' me. I know what you were talking about."

"So now you're a thinker," Christopher said.

"Hey, it's called going to school," said Alex, thumping his chest, "It does wonders."

"It's done wonders alright," said Christopher, "I've got one son with a criminal record who can blow things up and another who has to wear sunglasses so he doesn't do the same. Now go back to bed."

Scott shrunk back. He touched his sunglasses with a trembling hand. Alex glared.

"At least they tried to help us."

It was out, he'd said it. Christopher slowly got out of his seat.

"Excuse me?"

"You know exactly what I meant," Alex said, deciding that there was no going back now, "The first time I used my power you ran. You ran so far and so fast."

"Anyone would have," he replied coldly.

"I know a girl back at school. She accidentally sent knives around the room her mother was in," laughed Alex, thinking of Lorna, "And when she cried afterwards her mother scooped her up in her arms and comforted her. Not everyone would have run."

"Listen, Alex-" Katherine started.

"No, you listen to me for once! Neither of you even wanted to be in the same room alone with me," said Alex, unable to stop, "And how many days did you make Scott walk blindfolded before the sunglasses Hank made arrived? Did you even let him out of his room?"

"I'm not going to take this tone from you," snapped Christopher, "I'm your father and so help me you're going upstairs right now!"

"I'm your father and you're going upstairs right now," Alex mimicked, "You make me sick. Face it, you abandoned your children when they needed you! So don't you go and call yourselves parents when it's convenient for you!"

Christopher swung his fist. It hit Alex in his eye and the world started spinning. Although he was too shocked to block the blow he was in control enough to catch himself before he hit the floor. Scott cried out behind him as Alex rolled and got back up. Christopher swung again and Alex caught it. Using a move Moira had taught him he twisted the arm behind his Christopher's. He shoved him onto the counter, twisting his arm back further to secure him. Alex watched dispassionately as Christopher cried out.

"Alex, stop it!" cried Katherine.

"How about Christopher stop it?" snarled Alex, "How about that?"

The whites of his father's eyes were all but glowing.

"What's wrong **dad**?" Alex sneered, "Whatcha scared of?"

"I'm sorry if I don't want the world to know that my sons are freaks," Christopher said, gasping, "I sure as hell wish **I** didn't know."

The world stopped spinning. Alex stared down at Christopher, his eyes burning.

"You feel the same?" he asked, turning to Katherine.

She looked away, but her lack of an answer was more than enough. Alex released Christopher's arm and shoved him away. Then he turned on his heel and strode out of the room. He took the stairs three at a time. To his surprise he didn't feel furious, didn't want to break anything. Instead he packed his bag with a terrifying intensity and calculation.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder he clomped down the stairs. He grabbed his coat off the hanger and put it on, careful to shift the bag to accomodate it. Briefly he let his eyes slid over to the door to the kitchen. Scott was still standing there, frozen and touching his sunglasses. He paused, wondering if he could ask him to come with him. No, he was only eight. He wouldn't want to leave his parents and eight was too young for him to come with him.

So Alex only ruffled his hair as he walked past. He couldn't choke the words to say goodbye to his brother past his lips.

"Alex?" Katherine called.

He heard footsteps coming after him as he opened the front door. Ignoring them he slung the bag over his motorcycle and started up the engine.

"You don't want a freak for a son?" Alex asked, "Okay, fine. You won't."

"Where do you think you're going?" demanded Christopher.

"Home," he said, "Also known as upstate New York."

Alex kicked the stand of the bike and got ready to pull out. He saw then that Scott had followed his parents out, only he'd put his coat and shoes on first. Neither of his parents had stopped to put on a coat or shoes but he had. For the first time since he packed his bag he felt a glimmer of hesitation. It was only a glimmer, but it was enough for him to put the kickstand down again and reconsider his decisions.

Maybe he wasn't too young.

"You wanna come with me boy scout?" he asked.

Scott paused, and then nodded.

"Scott!" Katherine said.

She tried to hold him back but he was able to slip through her arms. Still moving fast he clambered onto Alex's bike. Scott sat in front of Alex who ruffled his hair again and gave him the helmet.

"Buckle that on and hold on tight," Alex said.

"So you're just going run away?" snapped Christopher, "For all your lofty words you haven't changed at all."

He gave a cursory glance back.

"Running away implies we don't know where we're going," said Alex, "But we know where we're going. And I never had the guts to leave before. So actually, I've changed a lot."

Katherine and Christopher looked at him like he was some stranger who had waltzed into their life. Alex looked back at his brother. Scott had gotten the helmet on and he was holding onto the front bars. He was secure enough. He kicked the stand again and pressed the acceleration.

The motorcycle revved into life and started forward. It was going slower because of its heavy load, but it was fast enough that they left their neighborhood soon.

"Looks like we're starting school early," Alex said to Scott.


	24. Chapter 24

Mystique was starting to worry about Erik. He had only had the briefest of contact with Brotherhood members over the past few days. Even though he was in the same area as them she was only receiving check-ins via the phone. She wondered what it was that he and Charles were talking about that would take so long. He'd even left his helmet with them, which couldn't be good. There was momentary hope in her that perhaps he was converting Charles to their cause. It was an impossible wish; she knew that. Still, she could hope.

Until then she was stuck in a small space with Azazel. He was getting impatient for her answer and she knew why. The plan would only work if she broke up with Erik soon. Mystique bit her nail. She didn't want to break up with Erik. She was still in love with him but couldn't bring herself to feel that way for Azazel. It was like one of those bad soap operas she used to watch.

"We couldn't raise them you know," she said once, "Our lives aren't conducive to being parents."

He'd smacked the ground with his tail irritably.

"We will have months off when he is born, I'm sure," Azazel said, "A 'gift' from Magneto if you will. Then we raise in shifts Raisa. Rotation. Simple."

She wished it were that simple. What disconcerted her more was that Azazel started referring to her child as a 'he'. It was giving her chills down her spine, so she was relieved when the door opened one day and Erik came in. Mystique got to her feet and gave him a quick one armed hug.

To her surprise he pulled her into a full hug and kissed her. Erik had never been one for public affection, even when they had first gotten together. She pulled away, confused.

"I have wonderful news," he said, "Azazel, you should hear this too."

Azazel nodded, seemingly unaffected by the display. Dropping into a chair Erik put his helmet over his head.

"I've been at Charles' school for the past few weeks," he said, "Not entirely; I don't stay there. But you all know that. You just don't know why."

Mystique nodded, sitting down on the edge of the hotel bed.

"Charles contacted me because he had to tell me I have a daughter," Erik said.

Ice flooded into Mystique's brain. From the corner of her eye she saw Azazel smirk.

"You do?" she managed.

Grinning he nodded and fumbled in his pocket.

"I didn't know until recently. She gave me this," he said, "I thought all fathers should have pictures of their children."

He drew a picture out and showed it to her.

"Her name's Lorna," he elaborated.

The girl's smile glowed even through the black and white film. Her hair flowed behind her and her eyes seemed bright even for someone of her age. To Mystique's dismay the girl was only a few years younger than her.

"The picture doesn't show it, but her hair's green," explained Erik, "She's also a metal bender, just like me."

The pride in his voice was unmistakenable.

"Excuse me," Azazel said politely, "Metal bender? Is this the girl Janos mentioned?"

"Unfortunately yes," sighed Erik, looking irritated by the interruption, "She's been on Charles' little team for quite some time. I'm working on it though. I couldn't get my friend to see the light. I'll be damned if I lose my daughter the same way."

He stood up and walked over to the bed. Erik sat next to Mystique and said;

"I'd like you to meet her."

"What?" asked Mystique, shocked, "You'd want…I…"

Erik raised his eyebrows.

"Of course," he said, "I'm trying to have her come with us. The more she knows about me the better, although I obviously haven't told her certain things. Charles was very obliging about that. And Mystique, I couldn't possibly tell her about myself without including you."

Suddenly he frowned.

"Unless, of course, you don't want to."

A lump formed in her throat.

"She's nearly my age," said Mystique despairingly.

"I'm sure that won't be an issue. Now I want you to meet her, but I won't pressure you to," Erik said, "But I might add that Charles is a father now."

Her head shot up and her mouth formed an 'o'.

"He married Moira and they have a son together now," said Erik, "Charles has expressed a hope that you'd be able to see him. If you came you could see them both."

She looked down at the picture of the young teenager and straightened.

"I'll meet her," she said.

She was so caught up in Erik's grin that she entirely missed the dark look that passed over Azazel's face.

* * *

><p>Lorna liked staying up late. It made her feel like she was getting away with something, especially if she was in a common area. She was flipping through her mother's journal. By this point she'd read it all, but she still hoped that there was something she'd missed.<p>

So far there was still much about her father that she didn't understand. If he had known Charles and advocated mutant rights, then why hadn't the two stayed together? Granted, his approach was a little more militaristic. She'd remembered telling him, on one of thier nightime outings, that she always felt a little better for looking at the stars at night. He'd asked her why and she replied;

"I know it sounds silly, but it makes me feel a little connected. Mutants, humans, it doesn't matter. Everyone's under the same sky even if the stars are different."

"Hm," he'd replied, "Animals are also under the same sky. Does that make them equivalent to us?"

She'd laughed, thinking that he was joking.

"You know what I mean," Lorna had said.

"Don't think that mutants and humans are the same," he'd replied, "Compare them to animals in your mind. You'll find many similarities."

"Not that many I think," she'd answered after a time.

He'd given her an indulgent smile as if to say; so innocent. Smiles like that made her feel odd, those were what kept her up that late. That was the reason she was the first to hear the knocking on the door. She hesitated; she was in her nightgown after all. Still, if it was an intruder than she would be able to take care of them. Setting down her book and adjusting her bathrobe she unlocked the door, keeping it connected to the chain.

Alex stood there. His hair was filthy and matted. Dirt streaked his face under a nasty looking purple black eye. Slung over his back was a duffel bag and in his arms he carried his younger brother Scott. Although Scott was wearing a coat Lorna could see that he had oversized clothes that had been belted underneath.

"Alex?" she said, "What happened? I thought you weren't coming for another week!"

He looked down and shifted Scott.

"We're uh, here early," he said.

She undid the chain and ushered him in. Scott woke up and looked around.

"We're here?" he asked.

"That's right boy scout," Alex said.

Swallowing Alex asked Lorna;

"Kitchen still stocked?"

"Yeah, it is," she said, finding her tongue, "Do you want me to get the Professor or-?"

"No," said Alex, "Not yet."

He carried Scott into the kitchen and set him down on a chair. Lorna started pulling a box of instant macaroni and cheese. They both looked ravenous and from past experience she knew how hopeless Alex was in the kitchen. As she put it into the pan she saw that Alex had grabbed cokes out of the fridge. He opened them and set one in front of Scott before sitting down. She stared as Scott began chugging his.

"Boy scout, wanna go a little slower?" he asked, "You're gonna get sick otherwise."

Scott nodded and Lorna started stirring the concoction. She was glad that it cooked up quickly and poured both of it into bowls.

"Again, slow," Alex cautioned him as she put it on the table.

The two of them started to eat, faster than she'd seen anyone eat. Lorna took a seat across from them. Alex finished first.

"Thanks," he said, "We haven't exactly had the best eating over the past few days."

"I see," she said.

Alex patted Scott on the back when he finished.

"Your old room's vacant and I know the bed's made up," Alex said, "Why don't you go upstairs? You get to sleep in a real bed tonight."

Scott's face lit up as he slid down the chair.

"Night Alex," he said, "Night Lorna."

She watched him go. Once he was out of sight she got up and sat next to Alex.

"What happened?" she asked.

He paused and took a swig of his coke.

"My parents got into a fight," he said at last, "Started talking about how they didn't want us coming back to the school. Obviously Scott and I weren't going to take that lying down. It came out that they didn't want 'freaks' for sons and one thing led to another…"

Alex tapped his black eye. Lorna's eyes widened.

"So I packed quickly and got on my bike," he said, "Scott asked to come too and we didn't have time to pack anything for him. So we drove here."

"But…you live in Ohio," she said.

"Yeah, I wasn't thinking too clearly," said Alex, "I had about twenty dollars in my things. And I had to ration that out for gas too. Scott got covered in mud and I couldn't let him wear those pajamas anymore. Didn't want him to catch anything. So he started wearing some of my shirts and shorts but nothing fit him properly. I'm sure you saw that. I tried to make sure that he was well rested and fed; I got him into this mess after all. I let him come."

Smiling bitterly he grabbed his coke and took a long swallow.

"We slept mostly in camp grounds," he said, "But we didn't have camping material...I don't know what I was thinking. I just couldn't stay in that house anymore and I didn't want to leave Scott with them. And he wanted to come...it was a dumb idea. But at least we're here now."

Her hand covered his. Alex's eyes met hers. She saw that the days of travelling had taken thier toll on him.

"What about your parents?" asked Lorna, "Did they know where you were going? We didn't get a call or anything."

"They knew where we were going," Alex said, "They tried to stop us, if you can call it that. But personally I couldn't give a damn if they went looking for us or not. For all I care they can go die."

She gasped.

"Alex, you can't mean that," Lorna said, "They're your parents-"

"Not anymore," he snapped, "Look, your mother loved you and didn't care that you were a mutant. So you don't understand what it's like to see your parents look at you with **fear**. I've seen a lot of people fear me but it disgusts me that they do. Don't talk about things that you don't understand!"

She recoiled. He was right, of course he was. What did she know about it? She was lucky with who life had given to take care of her. It seemed like fewer and fewer mutants had been though. Before she had thought that people like Reverend Craig were the exception to the rule. Now it seemed that instead it was Moira, her mother, and Dr. MacTaggert who were the exceptions.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you," Alex sighed, reaching out and taking her hand again, "It's just, these past few days have been…"

Lorna moved forward and hugged him. He leaned his head into the crook of her neck and put one of his arms around her shoulder. After a few seconds she realized he was silently crying.

"Don't worry," she said, "It's been hard for you."

Stroking his hair she whispered odd words in his ear. It seemed to comfort him somehow. She could see that he'd been trying to be strong for Scott for so long that he'd forgotten to be strong for himself. So she held him for a little longer, waiting for him to make the first move.

He sniffed and sat up.

"I just...we're runaways. Knowing them they'll probably cough up the tuition to keep up appearences in our neighborhood," he said, "But it'll...it'll probably look bad. All the time I was driving I just, I don't even know if the Professor would let us stay here."

"Wonder no longer."

They both looked up. Charles sat in the doorway, his hands on the wheels of his chair. He looked at Alex with sympathy and a profound sadness.

"Don't worry," he said, "You always have a home here."

Alex's grip on Lorna's arm tightened.

"Thank you," he said.


	25. Chapter 25

Martinique didn't like the Weapon X facilities. They were filthy to start with and the living conditions were cramped. Not to mention that most of the 'Agents' as Stryker called them were men who were used to not having to take showers because no one cared. Martinique cared. She cared very much.

She looked around the room and then down at her drawing. The design for the machine that would give her family unlimited power was very simple. Building it was not. The finances and technology just didn't exist in the normal world. It did exist, however, when you convinced the government to do it for you.

Stryker had been surprisingly easy to fool. Martinique had, of course, changed her appearance to fool him. She had also figured that he would take to her more if she showed that she was overzealous in taking care of 'the mutant problem' as he called it. It had been disgusting how much it had worked.

So here she was with her own facility to extract cosmic radiation. Her argument was that it could power weapons. Since it would be extracted from mutants then there would be nothing unethical about it. Plus, it would kill the mutant eventually. When the mutant died you just got another mutant with a similar power. That meant they were converting wasted mutant power into something useful while getting rid of a mutant. Everyone won.

That was what Stryker figured anyway. Cosmic radiation could also, when emitted in certain amounts, make surrounding minds more susceptible to suggestion. That was what she was going for. All of her plans for weapons were just designed to confuse Stryker. As soon as she had procured the energy then she would cut and run.

Admittedly there were still a few bugs in the system. For the machine to work the mutant would have to emit the radiation of their own free will. In its crude state it couldn't force them. She figured pain would be the perfect stimulus for that. It was why her father had chosen her and not Regan for this mission. She was by far superior at producing pain.

Now the only problem was finding a mutant that emitted cosmic energy. That wasn't her job though. It was Regan's. Although Stryker might not care where she procured the mutant she would have a story just in case. She'd tell him that it was some niece or nephew of hers that had been stricken with the disease. Better to have them die now than go through life the way they were. Judging from the way Stryker talked about his own son then she knew he'd agree.

* * *

><p>There was something different about Lorna. She was quiet and withdrawn. Unlike the other days Erik found himself doing most of the talking while she stared off into the distance and made noncommittal noises. Even talking about arranging a meeting with Mystique, which she had previously indicated a great interest in, didn't seem to illicit much of a response. Finally Erik couldn't stand it anymore.<p>

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

She hesitated.

"No," she said.

"Don't lie Lorna," Erik cautioned her.

"I…I don't want to just dump my problems on you…"

"I'm your father," he insisted, "It's my responsibility to listen to your problems."

Lorna gave a small smile. She rested her chin on her hand.

"Last night Alex came back to the school," she said.

He shifted; that wasn't good. If Charles got it into his head to tell Alex who Lorna's father was then he wouldn't have a chance. If she even mentioned his full name to him it would be a disaster. Alex didn't have Charles' decency or tact; he'd straight up tell Lorna who he was. Even Hank, who'd once tried to throttle him, would have been preferable. Having her become a member of the Brotherhood after that would be impossible at best.

"That's good though, isn't it?" he asked, "You said you missed him."

She shook her head.

"I'm happy to have him back, but he came back because his mother and father told him that they didn't want him as a son," Lorna said, "Him and his brother. And his father hit him before he left. His black eye looks really bad. He drove all the way from Ohio just because he couldn't stand to be near them anymore."

Erik titled his head thoughtfully. He had always thought that Alex probably had it rough at home. What else would drive such a young man to be arrested so many times? However, he hadn't imagined it would be bad enough for him to run away from home on nothing but a motorcycle.

"I'm sorry," Erik said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

She didn't meet his eyes.

"Until recently I was ashamed of my hair," she said, "I've accepted myself since then, but now I look back at myself and wonder about why I felt that way."

He opened his mouth but Lorna shook his head.

"Just listen for a minute," she said, "I mean, why did I feel like I should feel that way? My mother loved me. She never ran, never hit me, never yelled at me for being what I was. The first time someone tried to hurt me because of my powers I was protected. Nothing in my life has happened that's been so bad really."

Leaning back she took a deep breath.

"So why did I feel deep inside of me that something was wrong with me? Why did I feel like I shouldn't draw attention to myself?" she asked, "I think it's because some part of me subconsciously knew that no matter how much my mother loved me that no one in the world would accept me."

"That's not true," Erik said hotly.

She smiled sadly and gripped his hand.

"You're right. That's not what I meant. I guess that I should have phrased that better," she said, "Not no one in the world would accept me. Individuals have not only accepted me but loved me."

Her lips pursed in thought.

"I guess a better way to say that would be that the world wouldn't accept me," she settled for, "And my hair is such a little thing. Even if I can't dye it it's no big deal. I've seen people with animal ears, wings, and claws. But even now people are staring at me because of my hair, because I don't fit into what their idea of normal is."

He looked around. True enough a few people in the park were giving her lingering glances. As soon as they saw his glare they turned away, but it made his blood boil.

"At school the Professor taught me that we were the next stage in human evolution," Lorna continued, "And I figured that meant it was on us to make sure that there was a peaceful transference as the world shifted from them to us. Coexistence until such a time when there were no humans and no mutants; just people."

Silently he scoffed at his friend's ideas. Charles' beliefs read more like a prayer to him than a plan. Now he had taught it to his daughter.

"I still think that," she said, "But…Rahne was abused badly before she was adopted. Just for being who she was. Sean's too scared that Maeve will reject him to tell her that he's a mutant. Hank will never be able to lead a normal life because people are too close-minded to see him as just another person. And now there's this thing with Alex."

Lorna laughed bitterly. It was such a contrast to her normal lightness that it made Erik hurt to hear it.

"It's just…sometimes I feel like coexistence isn't going to happen," she admitted,"You once asked me why I needed thier understanding. I took it for granted that I did so they wouldn't fear me. Now...I don't know. Do I want people like Alex's parents, like the guy who raised Rahne, to be near me, let alone **understand** me? I just don't know anymore."

The hand on her shoulder twitched. Could he really be being handed this opportunity? Had Alex, the boy who'd made it the clearest that he rejected everything Erik stood for, have given him the gift of his daughter? His mind raced for the right words to say, words that would ensure that she could come with him. She wasn't just another crowd to orate after all. She was his daughter and a different approach had to be taken.

"Lorna," he said, "Look at me."

She did so, her eyes moist with tears. He put both of his hands on either side of her face.

"Your mother was an exceptional woman. And so was this Dr. MacTaggert. And her niece, who's married to one mutant and mother to another is too," said Erik, "In the darkness points of light can show through. No one is debating this."

For a moment more he pondered his next words.

"But you have to remember that the darkness is still great, still much more powerful than those little pinpricks of light," he said, "I'm sorry that I have to be the one to tell you this, but the world is a dangerous and often lonely place for our kind."

Slowly he removed his hands from her face. He used them to push up his sleeve so she could see the numbers tattooed on the inside of his wrist. Her eyes traced them.

"They took me and my family, and they didn't even know that I was a mutant then," Erik continued, "That was just for being slightly different. I never told your mother what I was, because I was afraid of what would happen. You see, the reason I was afraid was because they found out in the camp what I was. They dragged me away from my parents and tested and prodded and explored what I had so they could use it to their benefit. To them I was less than an animal."

The moistness in her eyes had been converted to tears. A horrified look passed over her face.

"I said you should never cry for me Lorna," he said, "And you shouldn't. But the fact of the matter is that I'm not an animal. I'm more than that, more than they were. And deep down they recognized that and they feared it. Just as they will fear you and all of your friends. And if we don't know this, don't recognize it and fight back, then I fear we will all be led like lambs to the slaughter."

With a sad smile he pulled her closer. He bent down and kissed the top of her head.

"But I'll never let that happen Lorna," he said, "As long as there's a breath left in my body, I will fight against it. Yet, above all, I want you with me for that. Us against the world."

She looked up at him.

"Now, I'm saying we give it a try for a month. And I'm not saying you can't go back to school, because the school is a lovely place," he said, trying not to frighten her, "But I want to be your father and for you to come with me. Just think about it."

"I will," Lorna said, sounding hushed, "But…all those other things you said…"

"Lorna, it's a sad truth," he said, "One day you may realize, as I have, that the only way for us to survive is for them to cease to do so."


	26. Chapter 26

"How was she?"

"Nice. Fun to be around," Lorna said, biting into her sandwich, "I think we'll get along well. We're into a lot of the same things."

"Well that's good," said Alex, "She might be your stepmother one day."

"Maybe," said Lorna, "But maybe we get along because she's twenty-three."

Alex raised his eyebrows. Since he'd gotten back Lorna had been telling him bits and pieces about the father she was recently reunited with. It was much better than thinking about the consequences he was going to have to face when his parents eventually came for Scott. That was probably why she was doing it. When he did think of it he hoped the Professor would break his moral code and just mess with their minds.

She talked about her father like he was a great guy; this newest piece of information made him wonder though.

"Your dad's girlfriend is twenty-three?" he asked, pushing his empty plate away, "That makes her only six years older than you."

"I know. I'm not sure how I feel about that," said Lorna, taking another bite, "But I'm not going to judge them. He hasn't judged me and I'm sure he has his reasons for being with her."

There was so much he could say to that. All of it would be disrespectful after everything Lorna had done for him though.

"Where are they now?" he asked instead.

"Talking to the Professor. At least my dad is," she said, "Adults only or something."

"You're nearly an adult," Alex pointed out, grabbing his coke.

"Not enough of one apparently," she said.

Lorna put her sandwich down and sighed.

"He asked me to go and live with him."

He stopped in mid-gulp. Putting the bottle down he said;

"You're not seriously thinking about going, right?"

"I…we get along real great," she said, "But…he wants me to go with him now. Spend the summer with him and then maybe go back to school once that's over."

"Maybe?" Alex asked.

"That's what he said," Lorna replied, "He said he won't stop me if I want to come back."

"Would you?" he asked, trepidation building, "I mean, want to come back?"

"Well, yeah," said Lorna, "I want to become closer to my only family, but I've built so much here. Rahne's like a sister and I've got the X-men. I've been learning how to fight and plan. Moira even taught me morse code. I'm invested here now. Nothing could change that."

"Good," he said, "I'm glad you like it here. But you shouldn't go."

She blinked at him.

"But-"

"What about the X-men?" he asked, "The Brotherhood isn't going to take a vacation just because you want to."

"We did fine while Sean and you were away," Lorna said, frowning at his tone, "But he got back two nights ago. And you're here too. Besides, the Professor said that their activity has really toned down lately."

In irritation he decided to change his tactics.

"What about Rahne?" he said, "After everything you can't want her to be alone again."

A shadow of guilt passed over her face.

"You know she sees Moira as family," Lorna said defensively, "And I'm pretty sure the feeling's mutual. Rahne really likes it here. I'll explain that I'm coming back and I'll write while I'm gone. She'd understand."

Alex snorted.

"So you're just going to go ditch us all for daddy now?" he snapped.

A flush reached her cheeks. He felt awful, but continued to glare at her. Her green eyes met his, her lips in a thin line. Alex knew he was making her angry. Next to him his fork began to rattle.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The fork stopped rattling. When she opened her eyes again she as much calmer.

"I'm not going to be gone forever. And it won't change anything between us," she said, "I know it's not the best time but if I don't do this now then I'll have missed my chance."

He turned away from her and crossed her arms.

"It's not forever," she repeated, "Just a month."

Alex didn't say anything. Finally Lorna said;

"I want to be here for you right now. I…I…"

Sighing Alex turned around and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Look, Lorna, I don't want you to go," said Alex honestly, "But…I guess...this would be really great for you. And…I'll be fine. They stopped being my parents ages ago. Scott's the one I'm worried about, but I can take care of him.

His words hurt. He remembered why he didn't do this whole 'selfless' thing often.

"I don't want you to stay on my account," he lied.

Smiling she looked up at him. Her arms encircled his waist and he hugged her closely.

"Thank you," said Lorna, "I think…I think I'm going to go tell him."

"Go on," sighed Alex.

"But after that, I think there's something we should do," Lorna said.

* * *

><p>"You asked her to come with you?" Charles asked, moving his cardinal piece.<p>

"How could I not?" said Erik, still regarding the board, "She's my daughter."

His eyes flickered up to Erik before returning to the board.

"And don't act surprised," continued Erik, "You always knew it was a possibility when you let me see her that I'd want to take her with me."

"Yes, I did. But I thought that her past experiences as well as her current ones would triumph over anything you'd tell her," said Charles.

"Are you sure she hasn't come in contact with anything that would make her realize how futile coexistence is?" Erik said sharply, "She's been threatened by a power-hungry maniac and has watched her friends suffer abuse because of the narrow-minded nature of humans. And just like anyone she has a good head on her shoulders. She wouldn't accept coexistence for long."

Charles let the veiled insult slide.

"But she's also been surrounded by good people," Charles countered, "Does she know who you are? What it is you do?"

Erik moved a chess piece.

"Yes."

Something about his tone made him wary. In that moment he was tempted to read his mind. It disgusted him that he no longer trusted him, but too much had happened for things to be the way they had been.

"What did she say about joining you?"

His friend smirked. Charles felt his heart sink. Was he going to lose another person he'd taught and helped to violence?

"She said she'd think about it," he said.

Deep inside him he felt a momentary flicker of hope. She was doubting things that Erik was saying. That was good. His fingers hovered on a piece, feeling like he could yet win this round.

"Now, she's not sure whether or not she'll join me," said Erik, "And I don't want you manipulating her into making a decision in your favor."

Charles' fingers tightened around his piece. His gaze turned into a glare.

"You're talking to the man who lost his sister because he allowed her to make a decision he didn't agree with," Charles said coldly, "Do **not **lecture **me** about free will."

He pushed the piece forward, capturing one of Erik's.

"Forgive me," said Erik, moving his own pawn, "I really want her to come with me Charles."

"And if she chooses to do so I will not stop her," Charles said, capturing it in another move.

Placing the pawn with his captured pieces he hesitated. His next words seemed distant.

"It was good to see Raven again," he said, "But, I didn't want to ask her this and I hope you don't repeat it, is she ill?"

Erik frowned and moved another piece.

"I don't think so," he said, "She's been a little distant lately. But otherwise she's been fine. I'm glad that she and Lorna got along."

Charles had noticed it. Unfortunately he had also noticed how the two of them could have been sisters the way they talked together.

"Is she still upstairs with Moira?" asked Erik.

"Give her a few minutes Erik," Charles said, "She hasn't seen her nephew before now."

"Women and babies," Erik sighed, shaking his head.

* * *

><p>"Can I hold him?" Mystique asked.<p>

She saw Moira hesitate while her eyes drifted back to David's crib. Obviously she was thinking about putting him back there. She didn't blame her. The two of them had never really gotten along. During Moira's kidnapping she was somewhat less than gentle with her. If Mystique had any choice in the matter then she would never ask her for a favor. Yet, it was Charles' son that Moira held in her. All she wanted was to hold him, and she'd beg if she had to.

Fortunately it didn't come to that. Moira held David out. Mystique was in her blue form, but shifted her hands so they wouldn't scratch the baby's delicate skin. He looked up at her and she felt lost in the periwinkle eyes that he'd inherited. One of his hands reached up and gave a gentle tug on her red locks. Her yellow eyes widened.

"He's not scared of me," she said.

"Hank babysits for him sometimes," Moira said, "and he grows up in a school for mutants. It's all one to him. Like it should be."

Mystique shifted David. She wondered about the child growing in her belly. What would he be like? Would he be anything like David? Would she have to shift her skin every time she held him so as not to draw blood? The more she held David the more she wondered if she belonged around children at all.

"Is he a mutant?" she asked.

"Charles says he's developing telepathic skills," Moira explained, "He needs to be psionically contacted first though, so I wouldn't really know firsthand."

"You must be very proud," said Mystique.

"That he's a mutant and not a mere homo sapien?" Moira asked.

Her voice was sharp. Instead of snarling a comeback at her she shook her head. For some reason Mystique felt close to tears.

"No, that you have a child," she said, "That he's healthy and there's no complications."

Moira's expression softened.

"We are, yes," Moira said, "I'm sorry for misunderstanding."

Mystique shook her head. David's small fingers brushed gently across her face. What was she doing? She didn't belong with a baby in her arms. She held no illusions; she wasn't the type of woman who could be a mother. No matter how she pretended like she could do anything she couldn't raise a child. Mystique had the mothering instincts of sand.

And Azazel wasn't the type of man who could be a good father. Sure, he had his moments of kindness. She'd seen that when he held her in his arms and whispered things. She'd seen it in his offer to help her with the child. Yet, she'd seen him be brutal more than she'd seen him be kind. That wasn't a quality valued in a father. Mystique saw it now.

Say she did take Azazel up on his offer. They raise their child in shifts between taking care of Brotherhood business. A child raised by two assassins in thier spare time. How did that sound like a good idea? Sure he'd grow up strong. Yet, would he grow up right? Wouldn't he become a monster? Certainly he'd become a monster if she raised him.

Did she want that for her child?

"He's very beautiful," Mystique said, "I'm sure he'll grow up wonderfully."

"I hope so," said Moira.

If only her child could do the same. The seed of an idea began to grow in her head. She could stay with Erik if she was successful. Azazel would be cut out of the equation, but he'd get over it. After all, the child was hers. Despite Azazel's objections the child was not half his and she would decide his future.

The only downside was that it would basically cut her out as well. She found that it hurt her more than she thought it would.

"You'll make a very good mother," said Mystique.

Moira frowned.

"I am a mother and-"

Her voice dropped off.

"You're crying. Is something wrong?"

Mystique shook her head.

"No, nothing," she said, "Nothing at all."

* * *

><p>Erik waited with a teary-eyed Mystique in the lobby of the school. He realized that David held great fascination for her, it was one of the reasons he'd brought it up to convince her to come. She seemed rather shaken up by her visit with him though. Truthfully he didn't want to ask about it. If he asked about it she'd voice her doubts and possibly leave. She meant too much to the Brotherhood and to him to allow that.<p>

Right outside the gates to the school Azazel was waiting for them to whisk them away. Ideally they'd be leaving very soon. He wanted to be in and out before anyone could recognize him. He heard the day before that Sean had come back too. With him there all three of the original X-men were there. All of them knew what he looked like and he doubted they'd hold their fire.

At the same time he hadn't heard Lorna's answer. He thought she'd say yes. There was no reason for her not to. She didn't yet know that her father was a terrorist, although he'd lied to Charles about it. She could find that out in a few weeks when the time was ready. She still wasn't convinced that he was right about mutant dominance.

From further down the hall a door opened. He saw Lorna come down the hall, her hands clasped behind her back.

"Hey Mystique," she said.

"Hey Lorna," Mystique said.

In a rather interesting move Mystique had introduced herself by her new name. Erik wondered if this was her attempt to change her name completely.

"Dad," Lorna said.

He nodded at her. She swallowed and then smiled.

"I'm coming with you," she said, "I'll get my things together and tomorrow we can go."

Erik grinned and hugged her. It couldn't have gone more perfectly.

"But, before you leave," Lorna said, smiling and separating from him, "Raven was nice enough to come meet me, and you were nice enough to suggest it. So, I'm returning the favor."

Before he could ask what she meant another figure stepped through the hallway door. Alex came in, his face friendly but controlled. As soon as he saw Erik and Mystique the control left.

"You," he snarled.


	27. Chapter 27

"The hell are you doing here?" Alex demanded.

In horror Lorna watched as light started to gather on his chest plate.

"Alex?" asked Lorna, her smile sliding, "Alex, what are you-?"

Not listening Alex sent a blast at Erik. Mystique and Erik both jumped different ways, allowing the blast to hit the wall behind them. A hole appeared there, smoking. She saw light start to gather on his chestplate again and jerked him to the side making the next blast go into the ceiling.

"I know you're upset about me leaving but you can't do this!" she pleaded.

"Move!" he said, pushing her up the staircase, "The Professor should-"

He was suddenly flung to the side. Her father stood across from him, his arm stretched out and holding him at bay. Alex glared at him with hate in his eyes.

"Daddy, he's not usually like this," Lorna said, trying to keep her tone calm although she was close to panicking, "You have to understand that, I don't know why he's doing this. If we could just calm down and you could-"

"You think that can stop me?" Alex demanded, "We've learned a few things since last time."

Despite being pinned Alex let out another blast. Erik dropped him and Lorna ducked. As she did so she heard footsteps clambering downstairs.

"Lorna, I heard the explosion. What the hell's going on?" Sean asked, reaching her side.

"I don't know," she said, "Alex just…I don't know!"

Sean started looking around.

"The way I see it-ah!" Sean said, ending his sentence in a scream.

Lorna clapped her hands over her ears. So did everyone in the room, Mystique going to her knees.

"Look, stop," she said, her voice sounding weak and far away, "You have to stop this…all of you…"

Her father got to his feet and threw Alex into Sean, tossing back up the stairs. She watched them hurtle towards the wall and threw her hand out. It was harder than she thought to stop them, her whole arm trembling with the effort. However, they both stopped before they hit the wall.

They got back up and started charging down the stairs again. Her father helped Mystique up and put his hand out.

"Please," she started, crying now and wishing that everything would just stop.

Then, suddenly, it did just that. Sean and Alex stopped in mid-leap. Erik's eyes widened but he didn't move. Even Mystique was frozen in place. The whole room looked like a still picture through her teary eyes. She turned her head, wondering if perhaps this was a dream and she was waking up.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't blast apart my school," Charles said, his voice furious as he pushed his chair into the room, "You knew better Erik. You knew better. I'm letting you all go now, but only if you stop fighting. Is that understood?"

Lorna didn't hear anyone answer but the Professor gave a sharp nod.

"Good," he said.

Sean and Alex dropped to the floor. Erik's hand fell limply to his side and he glared at Charles.

"You said you wouldn't Charles," he said, his voice threatening, "I left my helmet because you said you wouldn't."

"Yes, I did. But you were trying to hurt my students. I have a duty to protect them," Charles said coldly, "I **am** a professor."

"They attacked him first," accused Mystique.

"I'm well aware of that Raven," Charles said, "But, as you know, I have certain expectations of people. I expect the children to act like children, albeit with more sense and tact, and the adults to act like adults."

"We're adults," Alex hissed.

"In the eyes of the law, yes you are," said Charles, "But right now you've become children again."

On the floor Alex and Sean got to their feet. Charles glared at them.

"What do you think I'd do when I saw him in here?" Alex snapped, "What do you think any of us would have done?"

"Act like a human being perhaps? Was this too much to ask? Really Alex, give me some credit. Do you think he would have gotten in if not for my invitation?" Charles asked, "I thought that I'd taught you better than to leap before you looked."

Alex looked over in the corner angrily, folding his arms over his chest. Sean just looked embarrassed. With a sigh Charles rolled over to Lorna.

"I would have spared you this if I could," he said, "I thought if you were leaving then we would all have a talk tonight and tell the rest. I'm sorry that it happened in this fashion."

Shakily she looked around the rest of the room.

"Tell everyone what?" choked Lorna, "What just happened?"

Charles frowned. Sympathy was replaced with shocked disbelief before a wave of anger came. Jerking his wheelchair around he directed the gaze at Erik.

"You told her, didn't you?"

Erik didn't say anything.

"You told me you told her," Charles said, "but it looks like she didn't understand. So tell me Erik, **did you tell her**?"

"Tell me what?" asked Lorna, pulling herself to her feet, "What don't I know?"

"It's nothing, Lorna," Erik said.

Charles glared at him.

"It's more than that. You said you'd tell her. I thought it would be better if she heard it from her father," said Charles, "I thought it would be easier that way. Apparently I was wrong because that way it wouldn't happen at all."

"Wait, that's your father?" Sean said, his mouth open, "The long lost one? Your **father**? **Him**?"

Something was definitely wrong. All of them knew something that she didn't. Her hands twisted helplessly.

"Yes," said Lorna, "What about it?"

"Now is not the time-" Erik started.

"You didn't know your father was Magneto?" Alex said, "He didn't tell you? Because I'd say that that's pretty damn important."

Her heart stopped, stuttering unevenly in its normal rhythm. In the deepest recesses of her mind she knew that name. That was the name of the leader of the Brotherhood, the one who was in control of everyone she had ever fought. While she had been told only the basics, she knew that much. Lorna laughed shakily and shook her head.

"This is all a really good joke," she said, "A really good joke. You've all done a great job acting, okay? But now it's over and it isn't funny anymore."

She grinned the grin of someone who was trying to deny that everything around her was happening. Everyone stared at her like she'd gone insane. She certainly felt like she had.

"It's not funny anymore," she said, "Dad, stop. Alex and Sean, they like their jokes and I don't know what's gotten into the Professor. He doesn't do these things but I'm sure something happened, they talked him into it somehow. But you wouldn't lie to me like this. I know it. So just say that you did it as a joke and end it. I won't hold it against anyone."

He didn't say anything, just stared at her helplessly.

"Dad?" she whispered.

Slowly she brought her hands up to her temples. She looked at them all. Their expressions ranged from shock to pity. Erik stood looking at her with regret.

"No," Lorna said softly.

All around her metal objects began to rattle and shake. She shut her eyes, the hands at her temples becoming fists.

"Lorna, calm your mind," Charles cautioned.

The rattling became louder.

"No," she repeated, "No…no…"

No matter how troubled and upset she had become in the past she'd never even had a nightmare as bad as this was turning out. Metal crunched inwards alll around her.

"Lorna," Erik said, reaching for her.

"NO!" she screamed.

She opened her eyes and jerked herself away from him. Her hair whipped around her, engulfing her in green. Removing her hands she ran for the front door. The hinges were metal and they swung away from her, wood breaking in the process. Once she was outside she continued running as fast as she could.

"Lorna!" Erik yelled.

"Lorna!" called Alex.

_Lorna_, Charles whispered in her mind.

"Leave me alone," she cried to herself, still running, "Please, just leave me alone…please don't catch me…please…"

For a second there was silence. Then she heard a whisper in her mind;

_As you wish. _

She continued running then, not knowing where she was going but grateful to be alone. Lorna hit the tree line soon and branches whipped at her legs and arms. They stung and hurt, but not as much as her chest hurt. After a few minutes she tripped over a branch and crumbled to the ground. She stayed there, still crying.


	28. Chapter 28

"Let me go after her," Alex said.

"And do what, blast another hole in the wall?" Erik snapped, "It went over so well the last time."

"Yeah, and I'm sure the father she was planning to go live with telling her last minute he was a terrorist was **way **better," Alex said sarcastically.

Erik started forward but Mystique stopped him with a hand. Hank, who Charles had called down along with Moira, let out a low growl.

"Everyone stop. This isn't helping," sighed Charles, "Erik, you said you'd told her."

"I didn't want to lose her. Can you blame me for lying?" Erik asked.

Sean raised his eyebrows.

"Um, yeah, I can," he said.

Alex nodded in agreement.

"Did you have any idea how much she wanted to meet her dad?" he snapped, "And then you had to go do this stupid-"

"Again Alex, not helping," Moira said.

"I was going to tell her," protested Erik.

"Yes, I assume you would have when she was in a position where she'd be with you for the resulting month," Charles said, "In other words, when she would have felt obligated to stay longer and you'd have time to explain yourself."

"You make it sound like I'd be making some sort of confession," said Erik.

"Of course you would," said Hank, "Do you know Lorna at all?"

A metal plate that had escaped Lorna's distress crunched dangerously. He rubbed his temples. A headache was on its way, he was sure.

"Hank, Sean, Alex, please refrain from commenting in the near future," said Charles, "I'm not contesting your right to be here; just to make inflammatory comments."

His hands tightened thier grip on his armrests.

"Erik, I trusted you not to do this," said Charles, "When I let you into this school I knew the risks. But you exceeded each and every one of them."

"What do you expect me to do when I'm attacked?" he snapped.

"Like I said, keep a cool head," Charles said, "But what happened here was more important then my trust. **She **trusted you. And now she's out there confused and heartbroken."

"Professor, please just let me go after her," pleaded Alex.

Wishing he could just leave this all for another time he looked at Alex. His expression was torn between anger and concern; both because of the girl who had helped him through his darkest hour. It was touching to see such a sentiment in the former convict, but it was one they could do without at the moment.

"She told me that she wanted to be left alone. I intend to honor her wishes," Charles said, "She'll come back when she's ready. And when she does we'd best all be ready. You're going to have to answer to her Erik."

"She would have left Charles," said Erik, "She would have turned away from me. I couldn't allow that to happen. Lorna…she's my daughter. I wanted her to be my daughter, and I didn't want her to see me as anything other than…"

"…her father," finished Charles.

Sighing deeply he leaned back in his chair.

_What a mess sweetheart, _he thought to Moira, _In more ways than one. The entryway is a complete wreck. I hope Lorna's calmed down as well._

_It must have been quite a shock for her. And I thought today was going so well, _she thought back ruefully, _But I'm worried about her. It's going to get dark soon. _

_If she's gone for more than an hour then I'll send someone after her_, Charles thought, _For now we'll give her some time for herself. _

_I see. How are you holding up? _she thought.

Charles paused.

_I don't know what you mean. _

_I know all the worries and fears you had about losing Lorna you had to swallow to let him in, _Moira thought,_ I was there. So I know how much this hurt you. _

Something surged in his throat. He quickly stamped it down.

_...another time sweetheart. There's too much happening right now. _

He sighed again.

"I see," Charles said, "But Erik…oh, there's no way that would have worked."

"He tried," Mystique said.

"To do what exactly?" said Hank, "From what it sounds like you came in here and basically tried to kidnap her."

Charles felt like banging his head on the wall.

"That's not how it was," Erik said tiredly.

"You lied to her and were trying to trick you into coming with you," Hank said, "I think that counts."

"He's right. Sounds like kidnapping to me," said Sean.

"Hank, Sean, stop it," said Mystique, "This is hard enough as it is."

"Hard enough for her, certainly," Hank said.

"I just wanted her to come with me," muttered Erik, "I wanted…I wanted…"

"You wanted her to be part of the Brotherhood?" Charles asked.

"I didn't want to fight against her!" snapped Erik, "God, I don't want to lose her because one day one of my members kills her while you fight against us."

Feeling depressed Charles sank further into his chair.

"Do you think I enjoy having Raven and you on the opposite side of the board?" asked Charles, "Do you think I like it?"

He didn't wait for an answer.

"Of course not," he said, "But I didn't trick you into siding with me. I fight for what I believe in and you fight for what you believe in. That's all it comes down to; we make our decisions and we have to follow through with them."

Gritting his teeth Erik turned away. A smoldering piece of the wall fell onto the floor. It sizzled noisily on the carpet.

"Alex, I hope next time you have the sense to take things outside," Charles sighed.

There was no answer.

"Alex?" he asked, "Alex?"

It was then that he realized Alex was no longer in the room.

* * *

><p>Lorna sat with her legs tucked underneath her. She hugged herself tightly. The last of her tears were trickling out of her eyes. Thus far she'd exhausted her tear ducts. She'd need some water soon if she wanted to keep crying. At least when she was crying she didn't have to think too much.<p>

A branch snapped off to her left. She thought it was just a squirrel until it was followed by several more noises. Wiping away some of her tears she looked up and tried to focus. The branches parted and Alex pushed his way through the trees. Almost immediately she got off the ground, getting ready to run again.

"No, please don't," he said, holding his palms up, "The Professor said you wanted to be left alone, but…"

"But what?" snapped Lorna, "You thought you knew better?"

"Uh-"

"Did you think you could come down here and make everything peachy after you attacked my father?" she demanded.

He looked at her, lost.

"I thought he was coming to attack us," said Alex, "He and I…him and the X-men have this history…"

"Yeah, I got that," she said, clenching her hands into fists, "You didn't listen when I told you to stop. Didn't you hear me?"

Alex shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Yes," he said, "but I thought you were confused, didn't know what you were saying. And I thought…nah, you know what I thought."

"I do," Lorna hissed.

More tears were coming and she wiped them away furiously.

"I didn't know when I said I'd go with him," Lorna said, "I didn't know that's what he was. He never told me…he kept it a secret."

Alex nodded.

"I know you didn't."

"It's just…I still love him," said Lorna, "Or I love what he told me. How do I know if any of that was true?"

He seemed to be considering. No one else knew what she had discussed with her father except the man himself and her. Alex only knew a little.

"I don't know much; he and I weren't exactly close. He was still helping train us then so I know a little. If he said anything about the Holocaust, that was true," Alex said awkwardly, "And if he said he went hunting Nazis afterwards then it's still true…"

"I don't mean that," she said, "I know that all of **that's **true. There was no reason for him to lie about things like that."

She wiped away more tears.

"I just mean…he told me I was wonderful. He told me he loved me. Now I'm just wondering if he told me that because he wanted me to join the Brotherhood," Lorna said, "If I wasn't a mutant I don't think he'd want anything to do with me. He wouldn't want me to live with him, he would have regretted adding another homo sapien to the count!"

There was a long pause. She hugged herself and closed her eyes again. There were more tears pouring down her cheeks but she didn't bother to wipe them away anymore.

"There's not many people who hate Magneto more than I do," Alex said, "The one who has the most right is the Professor, but it's not in his nature to hate. I'm not as good as he is though. I have problems forgiving and forgetting. After working with us...do you know that woman with him is the Professor's sister?"

She stared at him.

"Yeah, he took her with him. Split up the group when we needed it least," said Alex, "Just ditched us when the Professor was just lying on the beach bleeding from his back because the jackass didn't look behind him-"

"Are you trying to help?" she half-sobbed and half-screamed, "Because you're not. You're really not."

Alex swallowed and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I am, I just, God. This isn't what I was made for," he said.

With a sigh he said;

"But we started talking after you left. And...he said he wanted to be your father and that he wanted you to be his daughter."

"He told me humans were darkness with only pinpricks of light," Lorna snapped, her tears being replaced by anger, "He wouldn't have wanted me if I wasn't a mutant."

"And I think if you were a human he would have said you were one of those pinpricks," said Alex slowly, his words ponderous, "He wasn't lying; he loves you. I hate the guy but I can give him credit again. I've listened to my parents lying so believe me when I say he's not. You can't tell lies like that with the face he had."

He looked down.

"You're hard not to love you know," he added.

Lorna broke down again.

"I don't care if he's a terrorist," she said, "He's still my father. I…I don't want to hurt him…I don't want to fight him…but…I'm not…I don't think I'm someone who can do what he does. I still love him, I just don't know what to do!"

Alex took a tentative step towards her. He took another and another until he was right in front of her. His arms wrapped around her and held her tightly.

"I can't imagine what you're going through right now," he said, resting his chin on the top of his head, "But I know you were there when I fell apart. I'm going to be here for you, no matter what."

She sniffed and buried her face in his chest. Lorna felt his chin on the top of her head as her remaining tears poured out. She couldn't say how long they stayed like that; swaying only slightly with their tired feet.

"It's okay," he said, "It'll be okay."

A branch snapped. Alex looked up in time to see the dart that hit his neck. His eyes rolled back and he collapsed to the ground. Lorna's eyes widened and whipped around in time for a second dart to hit in her arm. She jerked it out but the tranquilizer had already taken effect. Her eyes rolled back and she crumpled next to Alex.

Regan Wryngarde stepped out of the bushes, adjusting the nozzle of her dart gun. She tapped her earpiece.

"Hey Martinique?" she asked, "I found him. And do you know what?"

She looked down at Lorna.

"I think I have a way to make that energy extraction easier."

There were a few muted words and Regan smiled.

"Hey, what are sisters for?"


	29. Chapter 29

"I can't find them," Sean said, jogging back to the mansion breathless, "If they were anywhere within a mile they would have heard me calling."

Moira shot a concerned look at Charles. He returned it. She knew he wanted to be out there searching the grounds himself because she felt the same thing. However, she stayed with him to work the walkie-talkies that had been distributed through the party.

However, no one knew how far into the woods Lorna had gone. No one even knew if Alex had found her. Charles' wheelchair would hinder him greatly as they went through the woods. Now that it was dark that risk was doubled. Visibility was greatly decreased for everyone except Hank with his feral senses. If Charles was hurt then the whole rescue party would have to stop.

Instead it was up to Mystique to head the search through the woods she had played in as a child. Erik was with her, trying to make sure that nothing had happened to his daughter. She shifted David on her hip. Moira understood. If something had happened to David she would be trying to move heaven and earth to get him back.

Hank jogged up the path, looking worried. He stood beside Sean and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

"I found where they **were**," he said, "I could smell them there."

"And?" asked Charles.

He shifted.

"They fell and there were markings where they were dragged off," he said, "I smelt something chemical in the air too; some sort of tranquilizer. Their trail is faint; I think whoever it was had some sort of overland transportation. They were definitely professionals."

She started and gripped David tighter.

"I found this," Hank said.

He proffered what looked like the glass covering to a watch. All around its rim were small markings. Moira recognized it.

"Standard issue for watches, so agents can recognize one another," she said, "I think that's from the CIA."

"I recognized it too," said Hank, "But I think it's a scientific division. I used to have one of these."

"Stryker then," Moira said, her face hard.

"I'd know if he'd found us," Charles said.

He closed his eyes and bit his lip.

"I'll need to tighten security," said Charles, "Call Erik Moira. Tell him that his daughter and Alex have been taken, and that we're going to investigate the nearest CIA facility." 

* * *

><p>The throbbing in his neck woke Alex. He groaned and opened his eyes. It was then that the other parts of him that hurt clambered for attention. His arms and legs both ached. His chest was cold and he realized that his shirt had been removed. Alex tried to touch his chest but something held him back. When he turned to look he found that he was hooked into some sort of contraption. Cuffs and needles were poised over his skin. His head had been put into a fixed position over a metal backing. On his chest were needles so thick that they looked like knives.<p>

"The hell?" he said.

"You're awake. Good."

The lights turned on, momentarily blinding him. A woman in a white lab coat and heels came into the room. She smiled brightly at him and unclipped a pen from a clipboard.

"Now then, Mr. Alexander Summers," she said, "I hear you have a special talent."

"Get lost lady," he snapped.

"Ooh, temper," she said, "That's something the prison wardens wrote about. That and your love for solitary confinement. That's good; this is the ultimate solitary."

"Yeah, whatever. Who are you?" demanded Alex.

"You can call me Dr. Jackson," she said, still bright, "Or Martinique. Yes, Martinique is so much less formal. And if anybody hears you they'll think you're just being strange. They all call me Maria you see."

"O-kay," said Alex.

He looked around the room. It was small and bare, like a cell with several tanks like they carried oxygen in. Panic set in when he couldn't find Lorna.

"Where's-"

Alex stopped himself. The longer they went without knowing who she was the better.

"Where's Polaris?" he asked.

"The green-haired girl?" Martinique said, "Oh, her. We were going to have her in here earlier, but she woke up earlier than you. Still drugged but put up quite the fight. Metal, who knew? I had to hit her quite hard to put her under again. Then we had to give her a double dose of drugs and move her where there wasn't any metal."

His throat started to constrict. Oh God this wasn't good.

"You know, I hear my boss was looking for a girl with green hair," said Martinique thoughtfully, "Apparently she got spirited away along with another little mutant to God only knows where. I wonder, is she the same girl?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said coldly, his heart hammering.

Tucking her pen behind her ear she shrugged.

"Doesn't matter. I'm through doing Stryker's dirty work. This is my pet project and I will do with it as I please, thank you very much."

"Whatever," said Alex, trying not to show his relief, "You didn't answer my question. Where is she?"

"Who?" asked Martinique.

"Polaris!" he snapped, half in irritation and half in frustration.

"Oh, the green-haired girl," Martinique said, "You should have said. She's next door; not hooked up to the same machine you are. Still hooked up, but to a much friendlier contraption. But never fear, we're connected through the air vents."

She pointed cheerfully.

"I didn't install it; I'm not sure why all these cells are so well ventilated. But it's convenient, because it means that you two lovebirds can talk to each other," said Martinique, "My sister found you two hugging pretty ardently."

Martinique grinned and put on a look of mock scandalization.

"Sneaking out of the mansion for some private time were we? And in the woods no less. You have no class Mr. Summers."

"Go to hell," he snapped.

"Temper again," said Martinique, tapping her clipboard, "We've been looking for you, or someone like you, for a long time. Do you know what you emit through your pores?"

"Lasers," he snapped, "want a demonstration?"

"By all means," she said, delighted, "It will be sucked up through all those little needles and put in the tanks. You see, it's not lasers. It's cosmic radiation. And my family needs it. So if you'd be so good as to use your power as much as possible the machine will just suck it up. You'd have to release it voluntarily or it won't work. Now it will be very painful, but no gain without pain."

She giggled.

"And you will, of course, die after a few days of this. But we can't help that," she said, "When you die we'll just go looking for your brother. I hear he can do the same thing as you, but through his eyes. That will certainly call for a readjustment of the needles. How interesting."

"You leave Scott alone psycho," he snapped.

"We'll have to get to him sometime," she said, "We'll have to get every cosmic energy emitting mutant. Depends how much we need really. You might even have enough energy to meet our needs for the time being. What do you think about that?"

Alex started to wonder if he was dreaming. It certainly did seem like a dream, except for the fact that Lorna was in it. Whenever she was in his dreams she wasn't in the room **next** door.

"You really think that that's going to convince me to help you?" he asked, "Because it doesn't seem like much of an incentive to me."

"No, I didn't think so," shrugged Martinique, "I thought I could torture you out of your little skull into doing it. My family is into old school. Eye for an eye old school. I can create illusions, part of my mutation."

He stared at her.

"If you're a mutant then why are you doing this?" he demanded, "You work at a facility that tortures other mutants!"

"Um, because I want to?" she shrugged, "And if it makes you feel better, you're the only test subjects here. But I have no need to create illusions now. I was given a much more sophisticated method of doing this. Besides, the more I torture you the less time you'll last."

From her pocket she took what looked like a thick gray box with a switch, dial, and a button. Tucking her clipboard under her arm she folded out an antennae. She flipped the switch and then turned the dial up. With a smile that made shivers go up his spine, she pressed the button.

Through the vents he heard Lorna's screams. It was all he could do not to call out her real name.

"POLARIS!" he screamed.

Martinique laughed. He turned his gaze on her and struggled against his bonds.

"Let her go you crazy bitch!" he yelled.

"Temper again," she said, raising her voice to be heard over Lorna's screams, "Look, I'll turn it off if you emit your cosmic energy like a good little prisoner."

His head pounded. He didn't want to give in, but he could still hear her screaming.

"I'll do it!" he yelled.

She pushed the button. Lorna's screams subsided into loud gasps.

"Now that wasn't so hard," Martinique said, walking over to a switch on the wall, "Now, when the needles go into your chest, blast as hard as you can until you can't anymore. We'll end when you pass out or just about. Then we start another day. Understand? If you don't we'll have Polaris serenade us some more."

Gritting his teeth in shame he nodded. Martinique flipped the switch. Needles pierced his flesh, stabbing through his muscle. He bit back a groan, determined not to show her how much this was hurting him. When the ones went into his chest he couldn't resist gasping. The last thing on his mind was using his power but Martinique jiggling her switch box.

He concentrated and let his power flow. It felt like the needles were stabbing into him further, twisting in deeply. They heated up like hot irons. Alex couldn't help the screams that tore out of his throat then. From somewhere off the distant thought came that, if he had been able to hear Lorna's screams, then she was probably able to hear his too. 

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_This scenario is based on something that happened to Havok and Polaris while they were with the Starjammers and had been captured by Vulcan. Everything was neatly arranged so they could hear each other screaming. Marvel can think up some real dark stuff, can't it?_


	30. Chapter 30

Mystique felt wrong sleeping in the mansion again. Ever since Lorna and Alex had gone missing the house had been full of activity. CIA bases were marked on maps and their outgoing and ingoing loads were monitored by the Brotherhood and the X-men. They were narrowing it down to the top three most likely. After that they were going to do a flyby.

For the first time in ages she had been sent up to rest. She rolled into the guest bed she'd been given. Charles had offered her her old room but she'd declined. The hurt in his eyes had made her want to take it back, but she knew she couldn't. A level of separation had to be maintained. So instead she was staying as a guest in a house that she had spent most of her life in.

Sighing she closed her eyes. Erik was beside himself, even if he wasn't outwardly showing it. She knew what the tic in his eyebrow meant, the increase in gestures. Sometimes he looked like he was going to have a complete breakdown. No matter what anyone said it was clear that he cared for Lorna.

She relaxed and let her form go to the way it was supposed to be. Her baby bump was just barely starting to show. Absently Mystique ran her hand over it. would Charles show the same concern for the child growing there? She believed he would. Moira had mentioned that there was only a slim chance for them to have mroe children. Yes; he'd take good care of them.

Suddenly she heard a 'bamf' noise next to her. She started as she felt a cold hand go over hers and make the same motions on her stomach as she had.

"So," Azazel said, "I am wondering when you shall be telling Magneto you will not be with him."

"Damn you," she snapped, sitting up, "I can't rest for five minutes without you showing up. People need to sleep!"

"You can sleep later," he said dismissively, "Our son grows."

"**My **child."

He sighed.

"So we are starting this nonsense again?" he asked.

"Listen," said Mystique, "You've been more than generous in this whole situation. But I've been thinking; we don't belong raising a child."

"We do. Otherwise you would not be pregnant," he said.

"No, you don't understand. We're not the type of people who have kids," Mystique said, "So don't try and pretend we are. I wouldn't be a good mother and you'd be a terrible father."

Azazel's eyes became hard.

"I think you are assuming too much."

"I'm not," she insisted, "your plan won't work. I'm not leaving Erik and I'm definitely not announcing who the father is."

"Really," he said.

"Really."

He nodded and turned away. Mystique watched him warily. When he turned she expected the attack, but not the ferocity. His arms pinned her down. Azazel pressed his weight so he trapped her legs. His tail whipped around so that it covered her mouth. All she could do was glare at him, and glare at him she did.

"Now Raisa," he hissed, "What will you do then? I have been more than generous. But it obviously does not make you more so. So come now Raisa, what do you plan on doing with **your **child? Share now."

With a sharp movement he removed his tail from her mouth. She coughed.

"I should scream," said Mystique.

"But you won't, because if you do I will tell **him **everything," Azazel snarled, "So what is it? Skazheete pozhluista?"

"I'll keep hiding my pregnancy," she replied coldly, "Then I'll sneak off to give birth. When I leave the hospital I'll take my child and entrust him to Charles."

Azazel's eyebrows shot up and then narrowed.

"Your starshy brat **already** has a son Raisa," he snapped, "Like Magneto has a daughter. They don't need any more children."

"Well I don't need this one. And if you think about it you don't either."

His grip tightened.

"He won't want him," Azazel said, "Might as well put him in an orphanage."

"No. Charles loves children. And he'll love him because he's mine," she spat.

It was true. She felt bad for assuming that Charles would just do what she wanted him to unconditionally. However, he was her best chance. Every now and then she might be able to sneak in and see how her child was doing. They could grow up side by side with David, just like she and Charles had done.

The thought made her want to cry, but there were more important things going on.

"So happy ending," said Azazel sarcastically, "Yzumitelno!"

"Yes, it is," she said, "We go back to our places in the Brotherhood."

"And you go back to **him**."

"Stop using that tone," snapped Mystique, "And yes, I do. I can see that what I did with you was what I called it the next morning; a mistake. This time I mean it."

His eyes narrowed and then relaxed. Azazel threw his head back and laughed. She looked at him warily.

"If that is the case," he said, "Then it is time for goodbye."

Azazel leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.

"Dasvidania my Raisa," said Azazel, "U meya adin rebyonak. Patome, pomish."

"I don't understand Russian," said Mystique.

"I know," he said.

With a puff of black smoke he was gone.

* * *

><p>After they had finished with the machine on the first day they had let him down. They'd wheeled in a cot which he had collapsed into. Martinique had strapped him down on it. She needn't have bothered; he was too weak to fight as she administered antiseptic to his wounds. He thought it was antiseptic anyway. She kept talking about how she didn't want to give him an infection.<p>

Although he felt weak he had strength enough to eat the food a guard put it into his room. He wanted to attack him but he couldn't seem to summon any energy to do so. The machine had taken too much from him. They knew it; it was why they had undone the straps before leaving.

Angrily he looked down at the food. The food was a colorless slop; the least appetizing thing he'd ever seen. In order to escape he needed more strength then he currently possessed though. The taste made his mouth fuzzy and his head confused. In disgust he realized it was probably drugged.

He used up the rest of his strength climbing close to the air vent. Alex tugged on the bars and held himself up. If nothing else then he'd be able to see if Lorna was alright. Her room was too dark to see anything though. He coughed.

"Polaris?"

When she spoke her voice was weak.

"Alex?"

"Yeah. They know my name, but I don't think they know yours. So use codenames when possible. Don't know if they can hear or not," he said, "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied, "But, this guy comes in with a syringe every now and then. And there was something in the food…"

"I know," Alex said, "We can't eat that stuff anymore."

On the other side he heard her push herself up.

"I heard you screaming," she said.

"Same here," he said, "What did they do to you?"

"Something with electricity," said Lorna vaguely, "I don't know. They unhooked me a little bit ago. I think I was next door at some part; but the table was metal and I ripped it apart. They had more darts though."

"There's my girl," laughed Alex.

She laughed too, the sound half a sob.

"You?" she asked.

"They want the stuff I can blast," said Alex, struggling to mask his anger over thier situation, "They're planning on sucking me dry and then using it for something or another. The woman whose doing it is some sort of mutant. Can do illusions. Real weird."

"Psychos."

"That's what I said," he laughed.

She started laughing again, only it devolved quickly into a bout of coughing. Anger built up in his chest, directed at both his captors and himself. They had wanted him, not Lorna. If he'd stayed inside like the Professor had told him to then this wouldn't have happened. Struggling to keep himself upright he said;

"I'm so sorry. This is my fault. But I'm gonna get us out of here."

"It's not your fault," said Lorna, "Remember that, okay?"

He shook his head and felt his grip on the bars start to slip.

"It's gonna be okay," he said, "We're going to make it through this. I promise that. I have to go now. I'm not exactly well-situated."

"I get it," she said.

Alex slid down the floor. He collapsed into his cot, only to be woken a few hours later as two men started to drag him towards the machine. Remembering the pain from the day before he resisted. Martinique sighed and pressed the button. Lorna's screams from the other room brought his struggles to an abrupt end.

Martinique pressed the button and her screams stopped.

"Good," she said, "Now let the nice men help you in."

The machine hurt just as much the second time around. However, through all of his screams he kept himself focused. He held back a little bit. It wasn't much, Martinique would have noticed otherwise. It wasn't enough to get a good attack going either. Alex saw it as a start.

Yes; a start to his escape. He was going to make sure that Martinique didn't get her hands on Scott, that the machine was destroyed. Because he wasn't going to die there, and he wasn't going to let Lorna do so either. Alex Summers had been a liar in the past, but that had been the past. He was a changed man; and that man always kept his promises.


	31. Chapter 31

Down below Emma could hear the sounds of battle. One of her penthouses was located in the Hellfire club so she could be near the action when something important was happening. Right now was one of those occasions. It was the Black Cardinal and Rook vs. the Black King and Queen. So far she didn't know who was winning.

The canisters of cosmic energy had been delivered that afternoon. She kept an eye on that and had left before anything could be done with them. Although the battle was on the other side of the board the members of the Hellfire club were opportunists. If they had the chance to kill the White Queen and assume her place in the confusion then they would.

That was why she sat in diamond form in her rooms. Guards were posted outside of her door, but she didn't think they would last too long. One day she was going to good bodyguards. Emma was a weapon, and a dangerous one, but it would be nice to have someone competent watching her back.

Bored she clicked her fingers together and watched the lights dance. The fight should go on for several more hours. Then she would be either welcoming Jason or killing off his faction. If she had to kill off his faction then she could end up damaging her power base forever. Emma Frost had decided to do something despite the White Queen's disapproval.

One way or another she was going to have to look her most regal; like someone who couldn't be questioned. She got up and went to her closet, rifling through potential outfits. As she did she wondered just where they had gotten so much cosmic energy in the first place.

* * *

><p>They'd put him in the machine again that day. Alex could feel the pain as the wounds enlarged. They weren't bleeding, but he was sure the minute he did something strenuous they would. He'd counted them. There were three in his chest and four in each of his arms. His legs only had two each.<p>

He pushed himself into a sitting position on his cot. Beneath the pain he could feel a semblance of the energy that had been with him his whole life. Without the chest plate it might be hard to control, but he was sure he could do it. And it had to be today. Another day and he had the feeling he was going to die. Now he just had to wait for that stupid slop they intended to feed him.

Alex heard footsteps in the hall. He got up and stood next to the door, flattening himself up against the wall. The door swung inward, but it swung on the other side. They might have thought he'd be too weak to try anything, but he was an X-man. X-men were tough and hard to kill. They were about to find that out.

The door opened and Alex barreled into the guard. The tray flew into the air, food going everywhere. To his surprise he saw that there was another guard with the first one. Alex reasoned that he was probably there to give Lorna her food. He dropped his tray and started fumbling for his dart gun.

Grabbing the dropped tray Alex hit him in the head with it. More food went into the air, followed by blood. He sidestepped the guard who went for his foot and stepped back. His missions with the X-men and the occasional prison fight had given him good preparation for fighting under stress. If this wasn't stress then he didn't know what it was.

"Both of you better run," he warned them.

The first guard went for his dart gun while the other one got to his feet.

"That's the way it's going to be?" snapped Alex, "Fine."

Summoning his strength he blasted both of them. Some of it went into the walls but enough of it got the guards. To his surprise he found it was stronger this time; possibly because of his anger. Maybe Erik was onto something with that. There was a sizzling noise but he ignored it. Walking to the guards he searched the charred bodies for key cards. He gathered them all up and went to Lorna's door.

One by one he tried them out. Finally the door opened and he stumbled in. The room was much like his, except there was no machine or metal. Instead there was just a cot Lorna lay on, unconscious or asleep. It was a hastily improvised table and he knew they were scared of what she could do with metal now. They must have amped up her drugs and tranquilizers pretty high.

He could see things cords hanging from the ceiling. From the marks on her bare arms he figured that they attached there. That must have been what Martinique had been using to torture her. Alex couldn't make out anything else.

Hobbling over he shook her. Lorna's eyes opened and she pushed herself up.

"Alex?"

"Yeah," he said, "We gotta get out of here-"

He was cut off when Lorna grabbed his head and smashed his lips into hers. Alex's eyes widened. All of their kisses had been gentle things; most initiated by him. This one clicked their teeth together and felt like he was being eaten. If they weren't trying to escape then he'd definitely explore this a little more.

They parted, gasping.

"Happy to see me?" he asked.

"What do you think?" she countered, sliding off the table.

Alex grinned and held up his pass cards.

"I have a couple of these, and I think power for a few more blasts. Not many though," he said, "So far I haven't tripped the alarm, but I don't think that's going to last. We have to get out of here, but I don't know where we're going."

"We'll just have to be extra careful then," Lorna said, peering out the door to her room, "I can use my powers too, but I'm not in the best condition."

One of her hands had rested on the doorframe for support. Neither of them were running at full power.

"They might have mutants working for them too, whoever these people are," said Alex, "She mentioned Stryker, but I don't think she really works for him."

"Let's just concentrate on getting out," Lorna said.

He joined her at the door frame. No guards had come looking for the first two so they headed down the corridor. There was only one door out and Alex tried the pass cards again. One worked and they slipped out of the door and into a staircase. A few signs pointed up and down the stairs, saying things like lab, cafeteria, transmission, office, testing.

"The cafeteria's probably our best shot," said Alex, "I can't imagine them keeping the cafeteria too far from the exit. And I haven't seen any windows, so we might be underground. In that case up is best."

"No, we have to go down," Lorna argued.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"The transmission room," she said, "I bet you can transmit signals. Moira's been teaching me Morse code."

"Which means...?"

"I could get a message out and they could track the signal and find us," said Lorna, "It's worth a try. I mean, we don't know where we are and we have no money. Not to mention we're not in the best shape. Face it; we're going to need a ride out of here."

Alex nodded.

"Okay, let's go."

They crept down the stairs. He tried the pass key on the door and it opened. There was no one in the hallway but they could hear movement inside the rooms. Both of them kept low, trying not to attract attention. When they found the room marked 'transmission' they flung the door open.

The two scientists inside looked at them with surprise. Before they had time to press anything their metal chairs and wrapped around them, pinning them in place. Metal melded over their mouths and stuck them into place. Alex shut the door and looked at Lorna, who was panting heavily. They couldn't keep this up for much longer.

Flashing lights covered the entire room as well as buttons and switches. Lorna limped to the keyboard and cracked her knuckles. Her eyes swept over the control board. Pursing her lips she started tapping away on buttons and adjusting a dial. Her eyes scanned it again and then pressed a button.

"I've sent a message," she said, "Even commercial airlines are going to pick up on it. They won't understand it, but if the rest are anywhere in the area they'll know what it means. And I'm sure they're looking for us."

"Definitely," Alex replied.

She opened her mouth but a crash made them look around. One of the scientists had thrown themselves at the alarm button. A siren sounded and red lights flashed.

"God damn it!" snapped Alex.

He grabbed Lorna's hand and they hurried into the hall. On the way out he kicked the scientist in the head. People were pouring out into the hallway, pointing at the two of them and screaming. Soldiers were coming down the stairs too. Lorna waved her arm and their guns flew out of their hands. He supplemented her attack wiht a blast from his chest and the soldiers went down.

More screams echoed as scientists cowered in their rooms. Some were even crying and blubbering. He felt a surge of anger. These were the people who had hooked him up to a machine and tried to drain him. After that they had the nerve to start acting like they were frail and helpless? It made his blood boil.

Alex felt like menacing them a bit, but even through his anger he knew they didn't have the time or power for that. Together they walked over the soldiers, heading up the stairs. All around them the lights were still flashing and the siren had somehow gotten louder. Footsteps stomped on the floors above them. Neither of them knew where they were going. The only thing they knew was that they had to keep moving.


	32. Chapter 32

"I'm picking something up," Hank said.

Erik looked up. It was strange to be back inside the Blackbird, although he admitted that some rather new renovations had been made. For one thing there had been a special place made for Charles to accommodate his wheelchair. Their strange yellow and blue uniforms hadn't changed, even if Erik had opted for his now 'normal' look.

"What is it?" asked Charles.

Hank furrowed his brow and adjusted the dial.

"I'm not as good at Morse code as housekeeper," he said, "Kinda wish she was here-"

"She's with David," Charles cut him off, "Can you read it?"

He scratched his head and then his eyes widened.

"It says 'Polaris, Havok, come'," he said.

Erik unbuckled himself and scrambled to the front of the plane.

"Where's it coming from?" he demanded.

"This one CIA facility," Hank said, grimacing from his proximity to Erik, "It's about fifteen minutes away if I hurry."

His eyebrows narrowed in concentration.

"And believe me, I'm hurrying."

* * *

><p>A wave of soldiers fell before Alex's blast. Lorna could see that it was taking a heavy toll on him. She was practically dragging him now. His wounds had opened up and he'd started to bleed from them. If they ran into stiff opposition then there was going to be very little he could do. It would be on her and she hoped that her powers would be enough.<p>

The exit was further than she'd thought it was. How deep underground were they? Each flight of stairs was a challenge and Alex was getting heavier all the time. When they got back she was going to put Alex on a diet and herself on a weight lifting regime. This was never going to happen again.

Rounding a corridor she nearly ran into someone. There hadn't seemed to be anyone on that floor, but the man was there munching on a cigar. She recoiled and raised her arm, searching for metal. Her heart leapt into her throat when she realized he didn't have a gun. Something was sliding out of his hands as he whirled around, but it wasn't wrist knives. He didn't have any sleeves and she could see that whatever it was wasn't metal. It might have been bone, but she was far too scared confirm it.

They both stood there. Lorna expected the man to attack her, but instead he just stared at her. He seemed to be taking in her disheveled appearance and the scrapes that she'd gotten from their flight. Her arms were banded by marks from the machine. For a moment his eyes scanned over Alex as well. Blood was trickling down his chest onto the floor and he was nearly unconscious.

"The exit's that way kid," the man said, pointing and stepping out of the way, "Go down the hall and take a left. Then it's open fields. Nearest town is ten minutes away, maybe twenty in your condition. You're on your own after that."

She felt like crying. Lorna couldn't believe that in this place someone was actually trying to help her.

"Thank you," she said.

He nodded and she dragged Alex past him. Going as fast as she could Lorna followed his instructions to the letter. She wanted to cry again when she saw the exit sign and found that the man had been telling the truth. With a wave of her hand she forced the door open. Then she pulled Alex into the night air.

"It's okay Alex," she said, "We're almost there."

In response he groaned. She continued to move. If they were lucky the X-men would be there soon. Then they wouldn't have to fight anymore, wouldn't have to move until their muscles felt like they were being ripped from their bones. For now she had to keep moving, but she had faith that they would come for them.

"Freeze!"

Lorna turned to see six armed guards pointing semi-automatic guns at her. She rolled her eyes, shifting Alex onto her other shoulder.

"I wouldn't try that," she cautioned.

"Freeze!" one of them repeated.

With a sigh she started to walk away. The guards fired at her but she waved her hands and one by one the bullets were deflected. Guards cried out as the bullets went into their legs and arms. Lorna continued on, wondering how communication between guards could be so poor. Surely someone should have noticed that she could deflect metal.

Something hit her in the back, knocking her to the ground. She was sent sprawling with Alex. His body cushioned her fall and he groaned again. Nonetheless she scraped her chin on the ground, leaving cool traces of mud on her cheek. Lorna got to her feet, slower than she ever had before.

"Useless homo sapiens, aren't they?" asked a woman, wiping her hands on her pants.

The voice sounded familiar. Lorna stepped in front of Alex's still form protectively.

"Martinique," she said.

"Got it in one," said Martinique, "You've got something of mine."

"Oh, believe me when I say he's mine," Lorna snapped.

"Yes, Regan told me something to that effect," said Martinique, "But I need him back. You've done admirably; no reason for you to suffer when I just need him. Face it Polaris, you've done all you can to get him out. You have to focus on yourself now."

Lorna laughed.

"You're really going to try that on me?" she asked, "Because that is so camp."

"Just thought I'd give it a try," shrugged Martinique, "But it looks like I'll have to kill you now. Too bad."

She snapped her fingers. Lorna had been expecting more soldiers, but instead a wave of fire shot at her. Lorna dropped and rolled.

"Oooo! You've had training," said Martinique, "This is going to be fun!"

Lorna's hand went out, picking up a gun from the ground. She used it to send a spray of bullets at Martinique. To her surprise Martinique sidestepped them gracefully and flipped over. She aimed a punch at Lorna who dropped to the ground. Moving her hand she summoned the gun closer, allowing it to hit Martinique in the back of the head.

Martinique stumbled and Lorna punched her in the face. There was a satisfying snap as the woman jumped away. She spit out a tooth and the ground became unsteady. Lorna looked down to find that her feet were sinking into the ground like it was quick sand. Struggling to get out of it she looked up to see Martinique coming at her. With a swift moment she kicked Lorna in the gut, sending her sprawling onto the wet field. Martinique gave a mocking bow.

"The poor girl's so weak. Want some sleep?"

A pillow came out of nowhere and shoved her head into the ground. It was blocking her sight and suffocating her, pushing her further into the mud. The mud forced its way into her ears. Lorna clawed at the pillow, but she couldn't feel it. Air was disappearing from her lungs and her movements became more frantic.

All at once the pillow disappeared. She gasped for breath and sat up. Above her the Blackbird soared. Beast had jumped down from the plane, landing on Martinique. She was sprawled out, dodging his swipes. Lorna clawed her way to her feet as Sean jumped down from the plane, screaming to keep his altitude. Soldiers clutched thier ears as he landed. Sean rushed over to Lorna.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she gasped, "Yeah…I'm fine. Alex, he passed out."

Sean looked over and found his friend in the mud. He started to help him up and his eyes widened when he saw the blood.

"The hell did they do to him?"

The soldiers were getting back up. Their guns started to go haywire, as did the metal fence. It twisted around them and pinned them down. To her surprise she felt a choked he relief at the sight; her father was nearby.

"It's a long story," Lorna said weakly, "And not them. **Her**."

With hate in his eyes Sean glared at Martinique. She was changing the ground and using fire at the same time. He tapped his earpiece and said;

"Professor, we've got a psycho mutant down here and a facility that tortures mutants! They're evacuating, all except the psycho one!"

True enough she saw helicopters taking off. She figured it contained those sniveling scientists. She hoped they contained the man who had helped her too. Immediately the metal that made the building began to crunch in on itself. Lorna wanted to watch, but a giant hammer appeared out of nowhere and knocked Hank back.

"And I think she does illusions, because no way was that real," he added.

Martinique drew her hand back and then she halted. Lorna recognized the Professor at work. Then, in a split second Azazel teleported so that he was right next to her. His knife ripped through Martinique and she suddenly went limp. Having never seen someone killed before Lorna stared for minute, and then shook it off. She made a gun hit the guard in the jaw and then got up.

The Blackbird landed and set down its ramp. Sean picked up Alex and dragged him towards the plane. Hank caught up with them and offered Lorna a hand. Together they went up the ramp and into the safety of the Blackbird. The familiar sleek metal interior with its seatbelts and harnesses felt like a hug.

In the middle of it all stood her father. He was wearing a helmet now, as well as a red cape with a matching outfit. Erik looked every inch the evil villain that he was supposed to be. Lorna wanted to shrink back until she saw the concern on his face. His hand was outstretched to her, like he wanted to move forward but was unsure if he should do so.

Every wall she'd built up while captured came crashing down. She'd been tortured; Alex had been tortured. Lorna had heard it. She'd fought her way to the surface, half-drugged out of her mind. Now she was ready to collapse.

"Dad," she said, tears in her eyes.

Letting go of Hank's arm she stumbled forward. Lorna hugged him and he wrapped his arms around her. She realized she was crying and that he was stroking her hair, murmuring things in German. In that moment she couldn't care less if he was a terrorist. He was her father, and after everything that had happened he was there holding and reassuring her. That was all that mattered for the moment.

* * *

><p>"Dad, we need to leave the country. Possibly the continent," Regan Wryngarde said, walking away from the wreckage that had been the CIA facility.<p>

She waited for her father's response on the walkie-talkie.

"And why is that? We've almost defeated them. We just need to get some more cosmic energy. Martinique has the new canisters, doesn't she?" asked Jason.

"Martinique's test subject escaped Dad," Regan said, her voice a little choked, "And he called his friends. They killed Martinique and crushed the building. The machine was in there. Dad, we don't have time. Soon the Black King and Queen are going to realize we can't fight them. Then they're going to come for us."

On the other side of the walkie-talkie she heard heavy breathing.

"His friends. The ones we did research on," he said, "They were led by Charles Xavier, right?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Just answer the question," he snapped.

"Yes, yes they were," sighed Regan, "In upstate New York."

"About twenty miles from the Hellfire club," Jason said.

"That's the one."

"Hmmm...all that knowledge of him we have…"

"Dad, I know that tone. What are you thinking?"

"I was fond of telling you that we were a family of traditional values. An eye for an eye, that sort of thing."

Regan felt a sliver of panic pierce her heart.

"It won't bring back Martinique," she said, "It'll just leave you dawdling for long enough for them to find and kill you."

"I know what I'm doing."

"No, no you don't," Regan said shrilly, "Listen; I'm going to the Caribbean to our isle. You can go and try and get revenge for Martinique. I'm going to live!"

All she heard on the other end was static. He'd hung up.

"Screw this," she said, taking off.

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_This story ended up being longer than I intended; three more chapters to go. I was going to do another sequel, making it a trilogy to round things out and to 'explain' why you don't see any of the First Class mutants in the other movies. _


	33. Chapter 33

Alex had finally woken up forty-five minutes after they took off. Hank assured Lorna that he'd be fine. The needles had penetrated deep into his muscles though. He'd be sore for days and probably not walk right for a few months. The same time table had been given for the full use of his powers. Still, it was better than him being dead.

They'd called on the way to the school. Moira had answered and then ran over to get Scott. Alex's little brother had been beside himself for the days that they'd been gone. Lorna was holding his hand so she had been there for the whole conversation. The plane was also rather small and there wasn't anywhere else to go.

Charles had taken the plane's phone and put it next to Alex so he could be better understood.

"Hey boy scout," Alex had rasped into the phone.

"Alex, they told me you were missing!" said Scott.

"Just some bad guys with some attitude problems," said Alex, "Nothing to worry about. It was kind of like James Bond."

Lorna had snorted. Alex's false show of bravado was just as endearing as it was irritating. It was okay to be weak sometimes, as he'd shown in the kitchen. There was nothing wrong with that. Still, he had obviously decided that he was going to be Scott's rock. Heaven knew he needed one.

"Let me on the phone!" she heard Rahne say.

"Wait your turn!" Scott snapped.

"Well I wanna talk to Lorna!" insisted Rahne, "You've already talked to Alex. It's my turn."

"Hey," Lorna said, "One at a time okay?"

"You're fine Lorna!" sang Rahne.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Good, you know she's fine. Now I get to talk to Alex!"

"Both of you need to go to bed," came Moira's voice, "It's nearly eleven. I'll wake you up when they get here if you go to sleep now."

"Awww!" they both chorused.

"Night Lorna," Rahne said.

"Night Rahne."

"You hang in there boy scout," Alex said, "I'm coming home."

"I'll be waiting for you," said Scott.

Charles pushed himself over and took the phone. He started murmuring into it as he wheeled away. Lorna looked at the other side of the ship where Erik sat with Azazel and Mystique. She smiled tentatively at him and he returned the gesture. For the first twenty minutes of thier voyage he'd held her shaking form, stroking her hair. It was only going to make things more difficult. As soon as they landed she knew that he was going to have to leave. She also knew that he was going to want her to go with him.

The way he'd held her after she rushed into his arms left no doubt in her mind that he loved her. Lorna had never been one to turn her back on love. With her mother dead she had no family other than the man across from her on the plane. There was so much she could learn from him and she was sure that she could teach him some things too. What's more she was sure that they could actually be a family.

At the same time he was going to try to destroy the world order. He'd called the good humans pinpricks of light. It was one or the other. There was no such thing as coexistence. Who was it going to be; them or him? There wasn't another option to him. She didn't know if she believed that.

"We're touching down outside of the school," said Hank.

The moment she'd been dreading arrived. They touched down and Hank went over to assist Alex. She waved off any offers of assistance for herself. What happened next was going to be between her and her father. Lorna didn't want anybody intruding on that small sphere because she needed help standing. No one was going to be embarrassed because they were included in conversations they shouldn't have to be.

Together X-men and members of the Brotherhood walked off the plane. Lorna knew that they weren't going to walk back onto it. Soon they separated. She noticed how the X-men and the Brotherhood seemed to form lines. Even she had subonciously done it; standing between the Professor and Alex. Vaguely she was reminded of chess pieces, each lining up before the game began.

She stepped forward. Her father did too, allowing them to meet in the middle. She swallowed tears and smiled at him.

"Thank you for coming for me," said Lorna, "I…to see you there after everything…you have no idea what that meant."

"You're my daughter," he said, "Of course I came for you."

He put his hand on her shoulder. Lorna dipped her head, allowing her green hair to cover her face briefly. Erik put a hand under her chin and lifted it up.

"Lorna, I'm going to have to go now," he said, "My place is not at the mansion, not at this school. It's not with this fantasy of coexistence."

She nodded.

"I thought that might be the case," she said, "I know you and the Professor don't see eye to eye."

"We did once," said Erik, "But time goes by."

Lorna nodded again.

"Lorna," he said, "A few days ago you told me that you would come with me. I don't hold you to that. I lied to you."

Erik sighed.

"I lied because I thought you might leave," he said, "But now you know the truth. Know also that I still wish for you to come with me. You're my daughter; no matter what I want you by my side."

"I know that," said Lorna, feeling the tears build up in her eyes, "I…I don't blame you. And I still love you."

Erik smiled and kissed her on the forehead.

"Thank you for your understanding and forgiveness," he said, "I wish I didn't have to pressure you into a decision, but there isn't much choice at the moment. I'm leaving now, and I need to know if you're coming with me."

Lorna bit her lip. She looked behind her. Standing behind her she saw Sean who could fly and fight but was too scared to tell the girl he loved that he was a mutant. His awkwardness was something she was sure he'd grow out of, but his lack of confidence was troubling. Deep down she felt that he'd have to find some soon. Even if she ended up leaving him then it would be Maeve, who seemed like a good girl, who lost. And she felt Maeve was too smart to let Sean go.

Next to him was Hank. Hank, who had tried to cure himself. Instead he had enhanced his mutation. The price of learning to accept himself had been paid for dearly. Yet, he tried to make sure that no one else had to pay that same price. He was a scientific genius who wanted to spread his wings, yet stay in the shadows. In many ways he was just as insecure as Sean. In others he had left them all behind, including the Professor.

Leaning on him was Alex. She thought she might love him, there was no way to know for sure at seventeen. He looked at her with bleary blue eyes that had undergone so much with her. Though he was young he had taken responsibility for his brother. He'd undergone torture and experimentation, and remained unbroken. For his age he was the strongest boy she'd ever seen. Lorna had no doubt that he'd grow into the strongest man she'd ever know in a few years.

Then there was the spot that she herself had vacated. In her mind flashed the day when she first came to the school, sitting next to Rahne the whole way, curious about Hank but too polite to ask. Lorna remembered looking up at Alex through the haze of the pool, being measured for her uniform as an X-man. There were the days when she couldn't understand calculus, and when the others had helped her learn to control her powers.

And at the end of the line was Charles, the Professor. His understanding nature and compassion were remarkable. He had taken in Lorna and Rahne without a glimmer of hesitation. Charles was, in a way, family. Moira wasn't just Rahne's family after all. By proxy she was also Lorna's family. She had snatched her out of the jaws of Stryker and into the safety of the school. It was there that she'd found acceptance and her ability to change the world.

Charles saw her looking and gave a sad smile.

"Whatever you do," he said, "Don't stay because you feel obligated."

Lorna turned to her father. She took his hands in hers and looked him straight in the eyes.

"Dad, you've helped me understand so much about myself," she said, "And I want us to be a family."

He gave her an even look. Lorna didn't dare look behind her at that moment.

"When I asked you why you and my mother didn't stay together," she said, "you told me that it was because the two of you were going down different roads."

Swallowing she forced herself to continue to look at his eyes.

"And, no matter what either you or I want, the same is happening with us," said Lorna, "Dad, I love you. But I can't follow you. Not down the path you've chosen."

The shock and hurt on his face made her want to take her words back. Yet, she couldn't. She had meant them. It just made it that much harder to let go of his hands. Still looking him in the eyes she stepped back so that she filled in the gap in the line she'd left when she went to him.

Erik watched her. Beneath his cape she saw one of his hands clench into a fist.

"They tortured you so they could take his energy!" he said.

"Yes," she said, her voice low, "but so many more haven't."

He glared up at the sky, his face contorted.

"So this is where you stand?" asked Erik, "Protecting those that fear you?"

Lorna nodded. He put his fist up to his mouth and she thought she saw tears in his eyes.

"Then you've made your decision," he said.

She watched as he turned around and stood by Mystique. Tears were flowing freely down her face as he joined hands with her and Azazel. There was a flash of black smoke and he was gone. Lorna sank to her knees and sobbed openly. Hands were placed on her back, those of Charles, Hank, Alex, and Sean. They were the path she'd chosen, and they stood by her. Despite the compassion that flowed from the gesture, it didn't ease the pain.


	34. Chapter 34

Megan was scared. She'd seen her father and sister going out the day before. Neither had told her where they were going, but that was nothing new. When they didn't come home she wasn't worried either; they often left her alone at the house for stretches at a time. In that time she had a crude idea of how to take care of herself. At least she could survive on toast and fruit. It also meant she could have all the ice cream she wanted while they were away.

The guards never left though. They never talked to her and she never talked to them. Her father had said they were supposed to stop anyone from getting in or out. Their presence had thwarted her vague dreams of running away to the circus. Megan figured that the circus was the only place that would have her.

When they started to speak in hushed whispers she got nervous. Guards never talked on duty. They were scared as well. She heard it in the way their voices went up and down. Soon after explosions started outside the house. Guards began running around. Scared she went to her room and picked up her rag doll that she'd named Magik.

With Magik she ran into her closet. Megan went in there whenever her father was in a rage or she felt scared. It was safe and enclosed, warm and dark. As the noises increased she wrapped her arms around her legs and began to rock back and forth.

"It's okay Magik," she whispered, "I'll protect you."

She felt silly. If something bad happened she wouldn't be able to protect herself, let alone her doll. Soon most of the noises stopped. Deep in her gut Megan knew that wasn't good. She began crying into Magik then. Something was wrong. Footsteps were echoing, big and loud. They came into her room and there was a crash as a nightstand was turned over. The closet door jerked open and she looked up.

Several men and women in various modes of dress stood there. Some had capes and others dressed like princesses. A glance at their faces told her they weren't from any fairytale though. One of them grabbed her arm and jerked her to her feet. Megan clunk to Magik and struggled, which earned her a backhand from the man pulling her to her feet.

"Stupid girl," he said, "I can see why Jason kept this one hidden."

"She's so small," a woman said, "Be quick about it."

Megan's eyes widened as the man pulled out a knife.

"Ah, ah, ah. I'd stop if I were you."

The crowd parted. The woman her father had called the White Queen and Emma Frost at different times stepped forward. She wore a snowy corset over matching pants and boots. Over it was a cape as well as gloves. Her lipstick glowed like diamonds. She looked like the Snow Queen from Megan's book of fairytales.

"Get back Emma," snapped the man.

"You're going to kill the pixie?" Emma asked, "Classy. As much as I applaud your knifework I'd like to keep this one."

Megan looked at her with confusion. The man rolled his eyes.

"Do you need to throw proceedings on their head every time you feel like it?" he demanded, "You know how we operate."

"She wasn't really part of his operation. I think that's allowed," said Emma thoughtfully.

"The hell would you want something like this for?" demanded the man.

"She's adorable," Emma cooed, "And it pisses you off. Of course, if you want to deny me then I'm going to get mad. And if I'm mad then you might as well prepare for war now."

Emma put her hands on her hips and cocked her head. The man snarled and threw Megan at her feet. The others left the room, muttering to themselves. The man was the last one to leave, slamming the door behind him. Megan looked up and saw that Emma was kneeling in front of her. She put a hand under Megan's chin.

"Are you hurt?" asked Emma.

"No…not really…" Megan said, confused and clinging to her doll.

"Good. You're my apprentice now, and as such you're protected from the likes of that nasty man back there," Emma said, "The Black King there hasn't been happy since your father tried to seize power. And in case there was any doubt in your mind; your father failed. If he's not dead now then he will be soon. Regan will die too if they can find her. I hear Martinique's already dead."

Her eyes filled with tears. Emma cocked her head.

"Your father hated you. So did your sisters," said Emma, "You know this. So why on earth are you crying for them?"

Megan got into a sitting position and sniffed.

"They're my family," she said, "I can't help but cry for them."

Emma sighed and reached into her pocket.

"Then you're a fool," she said, producing a handkerchief, "But if you need to cry then chose who you want to see you cry. Are you alright letting me see you cry?"

She looked into Emma's eyes. There was hardness there, but also a touch of sympathy. Megan clutched Magik and nodded.

"Then go ahead and cry," Emma said, handing her the handkerchief.

Megan took it and cried.

* * *

><p>Moira wondered when Charles was getting back. The sooner they got back with Alex and Lorna the better. It was a relief to know that they were alright, but now that they were fine there were other things that were going to happen. For one thing Lorna was going to have to face her father if she hadn't already. When she did Moira didn't know what she was going to decide. Either way Lorna was getting her heart broken.<p>

She sighed and shifted David in her arms. He wasn't yet asleep and getting harder to hold. David was growing up big and strong. Moira smiled when she thought of the day he'd start walking. If her guide was right then he should start speaking soon. There were so many words that had been bandied about in front of him that she had no idea what his first word would be.

"Can you say mama?" she tried.

David stared at her with her husband's eyes. Sometimes she felt like she was making a fool of herself. She hoped he never remembered it. It would be difficult for him to respect her in the future if he did.

"Can you say mama?" she said again.

He stared at her and she sighed. It was time to put him to bed. Besides, she could hear noises in the hallway. Charles would need her down there when he came back. Moira might not have super powers but sometimes an extra adult was needed to even out the situation. Hank might also need help patching Lorna and Alex up.

"Mah-mah."

Her eyes widened. She looked down at David, her eyes wide.

"Did you just say mama?" asked Moira.

"Mah-mah," David repeated.

Laughing she lifted him high and kissed him. Behind her the door opened.

"Charles," she said, "You'll never believe this-"

She stopped and held David close to her.

"Who are you?" asked Moira.

The man smiled and stroked his chin.

"Just another mutant," he said, "Like the child in your arms. Watch out, if you're not careful he'll grow up quick."

He smiled, but it didn't touch his eyes. She started edging away.

"You should have seen me when they put my first daughter in my arms. They said Jason Wyrngarde, you have a daughter," he said, "How proud I was. But she's gone now. Died in combat with others of her kind, in combat with your husband to be exact."

The smile broadened.

"Now I'm a fair man," he said, "There's no need for you to die too. Just leave your son and we'll call it even."

Moira ran into the other room. She slammed the door. Jason rammed it and it rattled against her. Using her fingertips she reached out to their dresser. With David in her arms she wasn't able to drag it very far, just far enough for it to wedge beneath the door knob. The rattling continued but the door was blocked.

Adrenaline pumping she ran to the door to the hallway. A shadowy form loomed up and Moira slammed the door shut. Luckily this door locked. However, she was woefully aware that it left her trapped in the room. The drop from the window was too far up without proper preparation. She started scanning the room for something she could use as a weapon. Her eyes lit on the bathroom.

Still clutching David she ran inside. Charles' straight-edge razor was still there from when he'd shaved that morning. She took it and unfolded the blade just as the door to from the nursery shattered inwards. The dresser tipped and spilt its contents on the floor. Moira started to slam the door to the bathroom shut but Jason's hand blocked it.

Moira slammed the door again and Jason cried out. However, he managed to get the door open. He reached for her and she slashed at him with the razor. Blood spurted from his hand and he knocked her to the ground. As she fell she turned her body, still trying to protect David. For her efforts she managed to land on her back.

All around her flames sprouted from the furniture. She edged away from it and became aware that she'd locked herself into a burning room. Demonic forms flickered in the flames, thier chilling twitters filling the room. Jason reached for her again and hauled her to her feet, ripping the razor from her hand. Moira twisted and all but David on the bed, which thankfully wasn't burning. It wasn't much but at least it was far away from Jason.

Her head was pounding. David was screaming now and it mingled with the twitters. Jason lifted her into the air by the throat.

"A dead child **and **wife is a little unfair, but you don't leave me a choice," he said.

She kicked wildly with her feet, hitting his flesh several times. While she considered most of what she had learned in the CIA a waste she was thankful for the self-defense classes. Jason dropped her and she grabbed the straight-edge again. Driven by some guiding force she slammed it into his throat. His hand gripped it and she drove the razor completely through.

Jason fell to the floor, twitching and bleeding. Moira stared at him, panting and seconds away from hysteria as the flames and demons slowly fizzled into nothingness. It was like they never existed. Soon the man lay still, blood pooling around his throat. She took painful gasps of air and stumbled to where David was, dropping the razor from her limp hand. Gathering him up she clutched him to her chest, crying and rocking back and forth on the bed.

That was how Charles found them five minutes later.


	35. Chapter 35

In one of the guest rooms Charles stroked Moira's hair, staring at the ceiling. David had been put in a makeshift cradle next to them. Since the attack two weeks prior Moira hadn't set foot in their old room. Charles didn't blame her. They hadn't even been able to clean up the bloodstains from the floor and walls yet.

"Lorna and Alex are healing up. She's leaning on him a lot for support now," he said, "But she'll recover. We're all worried. In the past month two separate people have perpetrated school grounds and attacked residents."

She took his hand in hers.

"We're increasing the school's security," Moira said, "Hank showed me some good plans. Subtle, but good. "

"But it's never going to be perfect," said Charles, something that had been haunting him lately, "The school's so big we can't keep tabs on everyone. If we electrified the fence too many questions would be asked. There's so much I want to do, but none of it allows us to keep a low profile. That's our best protection; a low profile."

Moira nodded next to him. He kissed the back of her hand and grasped it tighter. The words he was going to say next were difficult. He felt terrified every time he came close to letting them leave his lips. Tonight had to be the night though. If he didn't say them now then he knew he never would.

"We found out some more information about...about the man who attacked you," he said, unable to say the name, "From…from what you told me it appeared that his daughter was Martinique, the woman who tortured Alex and Lorna at the facility."

"I thought that might be the case," she said, "You know what he said."

Charles squeezed his eyes shut.

"He wanted to kill David because he blamed me for Martinique's death," he said, "Otherwise nothing would have happened."

"Don't blame yourself," Moira said.

"I have to," Charles replied, "He was coming for you because of what I had done."

"Don't-"

"You were lucky that the razor was there-" he pressed on.

"Charles, what are you getting at?" interrupted Moira.

Her eyes were wide and staring. It made it all the harder.

"It's not safe here," he said, "David's so young and you…if I say something that gets someone angry, and I will say such things, and when I make enemies-"

"Don't Charles," she said, pulling herself away and shaking her head, "Don't."

"You can't stay here," Charles said, "They'll find you and they'll take you from me."

"I'm not leaving you," said Moira, "David needs his father and I need my husband. So don't you dare. Stop it right now."

"Listen to me," Charles said, pushing himself into a sitting position, "We've seen that people can break in. If they were more careful than Jason…we have to be lucky all the time. They only have to be lucky once."

"No," Moira repeated.

The conversation was going downhill faster than he'd thought it would. He reached for her but she pulled away. Rallying he said;

"Listen, we could open another facility for the more dangerous mutants who can't control their powers. Make arrangements somewhere. Maybe even have a new team of X-men."

"And what would we call ourselves?" she demanded, "The Exiles? Because that's what we'd be Charles. I'm not leaving you."

"Please be reasonable," he begged.

"I am being reasonable," snapped Moira, tears in her eyes, "I want what you promised me on our wedding day, what every wife is promised; 'til death do us part'."

"It will part us much sooner if they think they can hurt me through you!"

"No," she said, "I promised. **You **promised!"

Charles hadn't wanted to do what he was about to do. Grabbing her head he pulled her into a kiss. He broke down all the walls of his mind and showed her what he was afraid of. He showed her the nightmares he'd had since Jason had nearly taken them from him. He showed her the times he'd railed at himself; convinced that they should leave but hating himself for even thinking about sending them away.

And then he showed her what she and David meant to him. He showed her how his dream of coexistence had changed into a dream where his son could live in a free world, where nothing threatened them. Charles let her see the pride he saw in everything she did, and let her see how much he loved her. How much it would destroy him if he lost either one of them.

He separated, panting. Feeling broken inside he touched his forehead to hers, his hands on each side of her face.

"Sweetheart," he said, "you know I'm right."

She opened her eyes, crying and clasping his wrists. Charles pulled her into a fierce embrace, wishing he didn't have to let her go, but knowing that he did. 

* * *

><p>There was something wonderful about returning to the school. The routine Lorna had established there left her feeling safe and comforted. She was surrounded by a blanket of a clouding warmth that allowed her to not think about her father. It was odd; five weeks ago she hadn't even known he existed. Now she was struggling to get over not going with him.<p>

The only thing after the assassination attempt that had jarred her was when they'd been informed that Moira, David, Hank, and Rahne would be leaving. Apparently Rose had been desperate to hear news of her wards and had expressed interest in becoming more involved with their cause. She'd been, in the past months, working on turning Muir Island into a hospital for mutants. The woman seemed to never sleep.

Her early attempt was understaffed though. When Moira had tentatively suggested coming down and helping Rose had pounced on the opportunity. Rahne had also asked to go, missing her mother. Lorna thought it was only fair to her. It was deemed safe enough now.

As she learned Rose had been interested in the education of mutants too. Hank had offered his services to helping the school and hospital branch out. He'd always wanted to have a bigger lab, a bigger facility. Now he was twenty and he wanted to leave the sheltered walls of the school. They'd have room there. Muir Island was home to a rather big castle after all.

She felt miserable about them leaving. Pieces of her family were being whittled away and vaguely she wondered if it was a punishment for not leaving with Erik. Were they even going to stay in contact anymore? Would she be able to retain her friendship with Hank, her closeness with Rahne, and even that feeling of comfort with Moira when they were so far away? She didn't know. Still, she kept it inside, hidden even from Alex. He was taking Hank leaving hard too. He didn't need anymore of her problems to contend with.

So with everything she was losing she hadn't been too optimistic when Sean called them into the living room at midnight. Lorna didn't see the Professor when she got there, but her guard was still up. Maybe he wanted to go to Muir Island too. So much was happening that she didn't doubt it.

Sean stood in the middle of the room, his face flushed and twisting his hands.

"What's up?" asked Alex.

Still twisting his hands Sean grinned nervously.

"I…I finally got the nerve," he said, "I told Maeve I'm a mutant today."

Hank, who'd been lounging in his chair, sat up straighter. No one spoke for a moment.

"Judging by the fact that you're not a blubbery mess…it went well?" ventured Alex.

"You'll never…you can't imagine…" Sean stuttered, "She actually saw it and, yeah, she was freaked at first. But only at first. She wanted me to take her flying afterwards. And I did and she said it was neat and…"

His voice was practically choked.

"She laughed when I told her why I hadn't said something sooner," he said, "I mean, she said that if she'd wanted to leave me she would have done it already."

Another silence descended. Then, slowly, Lorna started to clap. Alex joined in, as did Hank. Before she knew it they were whooping and hollering, smacking Sean on the back. Despite the hour they had an impromptu party in the kitchen with sodas and any leftovers they could find. Because the noise was increasing they ended up taking it to the pool.

Lorna nursed a coke in one of the deck chairs, watching and laughing as Sean and Alex started a water war. Hank, despite how he hated getting chlorine in his fur, jumped in as well. The whole pool was churning as water splashed onto the sidelines. Some even flicked up and got her. She found that she didn't mind though.

A warmth filled her that she hadn't had in a long time. It didn't matter if Hank was in Scotland or in Antarctica. They would be fine; the four of them. Somehow she could tell. They would see each other again. You couldn't break bonds like the ones that they'd made. And even when they didn't see each other she'd find them in her thoughts and in her prayers.

Much like her father, wherever he was. She looked up at the sky and wondered if he was seeing the same stars she was. He probably was, but she couldn't tell. Maybe one day she'd know for sure. They were all under the same sky after all; humans and mutants, friends and teammates, fathers and daughters. With a small smile Lorna finished the rest of her soda. Then she cast the bottle down and joined her friends. 

* * *

><p>Azazel waited in one of the side rooms of the hospital, his arms crossed and his tail swishing impatiently. About one floor up Mystique was giving birth to his child. She'd thought that she was so sneaky, going off in the middle of the night to this out of the way hospital. She thought no one would notice with Erik still angry over the loss of his daughter. She'd thought she'd avoid any complications. She was wrong about that.<p>

The door opened. He looked over at the terrified doctor who walked in. More specifically his eyes narrowed in on the small bundle in his arms.

"You put her under, da?"

"Said we had to…to do a cesarean," stuttered the doctor.

He grinned. Bribes and threats were good for something after all.

"And when she wakes up?" he prompted.

"She miscarried," the doctor fumbled, "The child was ex, ex, exuding something toxic. We had to get rid of it. It had been dead for months."

"Yzumitelno," said Azazel, "Now, to me."

The doctor placed the bundle in his arms and all but fled the room. The door slammed shut behind him. Azazel smiled to himself.

"Humans," he scoffed.

He directed his attention to the child in his arms. It was a boy, his skin blue and rough. He wasn't crying in the manner of newborns. Instead he was looking around with his golden eyes. On closer inspection Azazel made out pointy ears and three fingers on each hand. There were the same amount of toes.

A tail flickered out, not quite under his son's control. Azazel chuckled.

"Not my son indeed," he murmured, "More my son than hers."

Gently he reached out. The boy kept pushing at his own face but one of his hands touched Azazel's finger. His expression softened.

"Well syn," he said, "It is pity your mother didn't want to be with us. Two of us could do it, but just one? She was right; I am not father. Not without help. But I'll be damned if I let you go with her weak starshy brat. What would he teach you? Nothing."

The boy looked at him with big eyes.

"You'll go to different home, one of my choosing," he said, "This couple the Wagners, circus folk, owe me a favor. A big favor. Silly witch; so easy to blackmail. If they hurt you, I kill them. If they abandon you, I kill them. But they will raise you strong. I have instructions, so I am sure of that."

He smiled.

"But, in a few years I will find you," said Azazel, "And I will let you know your **real **father. And to be fair I tell you all about her. Why it had to be. Why she did not deserve to choose your future. But for now I give you name."

One of his hands stroked the side of the child's face.

"Kurt," he said, "It's good name."

Upstairs he heard something akin to a wail. A cruel smile crossed his lips.

"Ah, your mother is up," he said, "So dasvidanya goluboy syn. Time for us to go."

In a puff of black smoke, father and son left the hospital. 

* * *

><p>"Christmas," Moira said, "Every Christmas no matter what. And at least a month during the summer. Every summer. Nothing less."<p>

"Agreed," said Charles.

She shifted David in her arms. He was a year old now and was taking more things in. There was a new level of comprehension in his eyes. The few strands of auburn that had made their appearance known months ago were developing into a fine head of hair. They'd even had to start getting him small shoes. It made Charles' heart ache to know that he wasn't going to be able to see his first steps.

Together they walked outside to where the Blackbird was waiting. Everything had been settled. All that was left were a few last minute demands on when visits should be made.

"Birthdays," said Moira, "You don't have to come for all of mine, but all of David's. You know how important they are for kids."

"I know," he said.

She stopped, looking at the Blackbird. He fought back a lump in his throat.

"I'm...I'm going to miss you Charles," said Moira.

Moira leaned down and kissing him. He put a hand on her shoulder, holding her to him for a moment. Charles desperately tried to commit the feel of her hair, the smell of her skin, her warmth, to memory. It would be some time before he saw her again.

"I'll miss you too sweetheart."

Moira got up and shifted David again.

"Say 'bye daddy'," she said, her voice choked.

"Buay daddy," David said.

His eyes filled with tears and he kissed David's forehead. David gripped his hair one last time, pulling it slightly. Charles smiled.

"Goodbye David," he said out loud, "Be good for your mother."

Silently he thought to him.

_I'll see you soon. _

It made everything inside him ache to hear back;

_Oh-kay. _

With one last kiss Moira headed towards the plane. Charles sat there, watching her leave. His heart pounded and drowned out most other noises. An unbidden memory of when he'd said goodbye to Erik and Raven after Moira's kidnapping came back. Away they had walked, neither of them looking back.

However, just as she reached the end of the ramp, Moira stopped. She turned and waved. David mimicked her action. Barely holding himself together Charles waved back. No; this wasn't like then. Neither of them were turning away from each other, not even when the ramp to the Blackbird closed and the plane took off. They were just separated for a little. That was all. 

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **__The last story in this series is going to be called 'The X-Force', and it's slated to come out in two weeks. Updates will be daily; but school is starting up so sorry for the large gap between the two stories. The story will jump ahead to a point directly after X-Men United and end sometime after X-Men The Last Stand. It will follow all of the characters from X-Men First Class as well as David, Kurt, and Megan. _

_A few notes on this story which was so much fun to write. I would have loved to leave a baby Kurt with Charles and Moira. However, in keeping with the movies I couldn't do that. As I said though; you'll be seeing him soon. Like many people I was ticked to see that he wasn't in the third movie. I think I speak for everyone when I say that having five seconds of Angel as appeasement wasn't going to work. _

_In the comics Lorna Dane/Polaris was somewhat of an underrated character. Maybe it's because she didn't have the mental meltdowns of The Scarlet Witch or Quicksilver's jerkiness that made her the least known of Magneto's children. However; in her first plot arc they suspected Magneto was her father and she said she didn't want to fight him if he was. While her parentage was only confirmed eight years ago, considering she's been around for decades, no one really debunked it either. So she became a member of the X-Men knowing that. Sure, her siblings became Avengers. Yet it's practically in the X-Men's job description to fight Magneto. I admire that she had the strength to do that. _

_At the same time Magneto as a father was an interesting concept. He could be manipulative at times but he only ever tried to outright do horrible things in the Ultimate Universe, which I really don't count. It made a lot of characters a lot less sympathetic. At the same time the events of House of M and Children's Crusade show that, when he's in a position to do something good for his children or grandchildren, he really stepped up to the plate. More of that in the future. _

_For those of you who bothered to read this huge author's note I'd like to say thank you to everyone who read and reviewed. Special shout outs to Princess-Amon-Rae, PhoenixFawkes310, QueenoftheSouthernSun, noamg, batfan, and Coyote Blues. See you all in two weeks!_


End file.
